


The Green House

by Luidilovins



Category: Original Work
Genre: 18+ No Minors Please, Abelism, Blood and Gore, Depression, Homophobia, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, NSFW themes, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Occasional slurs, Racism, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Super Duper not for minors, The Veitnam war in general, Trypophobia, alchoholism, historical fiction - Freeform, mature content, the story literally takes place in the 80s it was rough sometimes, unreality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 83,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25067617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luidilovins/pseuds/Luidilovins
Summary: Ye jun Ahn and Michael Rivett have a good life for themselves. After living together for nearly a decade they've got a good routine and a quiet home, that is until a loud mouthed eleven year old Sadie Morris comes back into their lives. They're given a second chance to connect with her as parents, and the story of how it came to be unfolds, the old pains of things left unsaid go along with it.Author's Note:A love letter to those that struggle to envision themselves growing old, a reminder to those who have made it thus far, and a thank you for those who did.As many times as our homes have been burnt to the ground, we have rebuilt before and we will again. Never forget that you are able and capable of survival, love, guidance, and growth in all senses.That is our most precious resource. And remember that growing old is a right, not a chance. It is possible.
Comments: 82
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

Typical was not a word that Michael Rivett would ever think he'd get comfortable using. But as he went through his days, months, years, typical became a word that he kept close by his side. It meant something constant, something he could tangibly hold in his hands. Something he could grasp onto when he could feel himself slipping through the cracks of the pavement he stood on. 

Today 'typical' gave him the strength to roll out of bed. Get dressed as he listened to his partner cough out his lungs like he did every morning. Brush his teeth and try to accept that every day he was losing more and more hair. Perhaps today he'd finally cave in and shave the rest of it off. 

His partner, Ye jun Ahn was a squat man, who stood at 5'6 and was struggling with weight gain. He had a permanent frown that began to etch into wrinkles, despite Michael's best efforts, and his hairline was receding at a tenth of the rate Michael's was. 

The truck wouldn't start that morning, which Ye jun, between a slew of curse words had informed him at breakfast. Needed a new filter. They had both been putting off the conversation of finally selling his 54 Chevy 3100 but it was a conversation that was at least two years overdue. 

Michael suggested they take the van instead, which Ye jun replied with a simple grimace of disdain, but agreed nonetheless. Their drive was quite lovely. They rolled their windows down to let a breeze in, as it was a particularly warm day for that early in May, and they played their favorite eight track tapes as they went into town. 

They had a few errands to run before Ye Jun had to go into work and Michael truly depended on having good mornings to remember because often Ye jun was too tired after work to do much else. 

First on their list was the post office. Ye jun had finally thrown in the towel after their third mailbox had been destroyed by snow plows. He had nearly declared war on Hood River's city council over it and still claimed it was a homophobic act every time the conversation was brought up, though the claims lacked evidence or merrit. 

Once Michael stepped inside the post office, he said his usual hellos to Esther and picked up his mail. There was a Sears catalogue, some junk mail, an overdue fee for the electric bill, and a letter. The letter was marked from Chicago IL and he knew immediately who it was from and that it was nothing but bad news. Michael folded it and put it in his back pocket. 

Once he stepped off the curb, and slowly got back in the van, he handed Ye jun the stack of mail. Ye jun quietly flipped through the catalogue. 

"A sale on vacuums." Ye jun mumbled with a cigarette hanging from his lips. 

"We talked about the smoking. You know better than the smoking." Michael tugged the cigarette out of his mouth and put it out in the ashtray. Ye jun merely rolled his eyes and went back to the catalog. 

"That everything?" 

"Yessir." Michael chewed at his lip. He didn't quite enjoy lying but it was a small sacrifice. For the moment at least. 

After a few minutes of reading, Ye jun grumbled something under his breath and started the van. They hit the grocery store and picked up some light bulbs, some bread and a carton of milk. 

Michael took an exceptionally long time picking out the ripest oranges, knowing that underripe fruit was a huge pet peeve of Ye jun's and he would never hear the end of it. But what was more rewarding than the aromatic scent of a ripe orange was knowing how agonizingly long he could draw out the process of picking fruit. Yet another one of Ye jun's pet peeves. He knew what he was doing. 

Ye jun grabbed some bubblegum for Michael and purchased it alongside the groceries, full-well knowing that Michael wouldn't be able to help himself and full-well knowing it would end up getting stuck in Michael's moustache. That rat bastard knew what he was doing. 

Afterwards they took a short walk around town, talking and shoving one another. Looking at the ducks and joking about bringing one home. Michael did his best to swallow his guilt bubbling underneath his skin as they sat on a bench and threw bread crumbs at the pond. 

Michael had been living in Ye jun's home for nine and a half years now. More than one or two instances, Ye jun had been the one to pull Michael out of his own private sinkhole at the stake of it caving in and swallowing Ye jun with him. 

The thought of Michael snuffing out the only light he had ever found in his life was a thought that crept into his waking thoughts whenever he would sit still for too long, because destroying good things around him was something he was good at. It was something he had done before, like a story he had read enough times to know the ending to. 

Watching Ye jun toss bits of the end piece of bread into the pond and making small hums of amusement, the small wrinkles in his brows crinkling while he smiled, was a glimpse of serenity felt like. The notion that Michael Rivett had spend his whole life not knowing it, and waiting for the fleeting moment to be gone forever from his own undoing made the letter in his back pocket burn like hell. 

The silent moment Michael kept to himself ended as Ye jun groaned and sat up. Offering Michael a lending hand, their morning was nearly done as they got back in the van. If they took too long the milk would get warm. Ye jun gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Michael took a deep breath. 

"I told a fib." He looked down at his knees shamefully. 

"Hm?" Ye jun hummed. 

"I didn't wanna tell you right away. Wanted to have a good morning… I'm awful sorry." He pulled the letter out of his back pocket and handed it to Ye jun. Michael knew that the moment Ye jun saw the letter their good day would be over before it even started. 

Ye jun scanned the outside of the letter, his good mood began ebbing slowly away, like Michael had seen before. It had been a while since they have gotten any letters or phone calls from Eun ae but Michael dreaded them almost as much as Ye jun did. 

Ye jun tore the envelope open and started reading. It was written in Hangul but Michael could pick out maybe one or two letters in the alphabet here and there. It wasn't his strong suit. Ye jun's eyes grew wider and wavered with a special brand of uncertainty that Michael also had seen before. 

"What'sit say?" Michael placed a hand on the crook of Ye jun's arm. 

"I have to make a phone call." Ye jun murmured before casually tossing the letter in his glove box.

Michael cocked his head to the side. "Why? What's going on?"

"I don't know, that's why I have to make a phone call!" Ye jun put his hands up in exasperation. With a set jaw, he put the van in drive and pulled out from the curb. 

Michael fiddled with the paper bag until he got the packet of gum out from the bottom, popping some of it in his mouth to curb his need to smoke, and chewed quietly. After a silent ride, Ye jun parked in front of the workshop and shifted his weight to get out. 

"We'll talk after dinner. I love you. I gotta go." 

Michael had to fight his natural urge to nose about, finally caving in and trying to read the letter himself. To little avail. Despite knowing a good bit of the words there was a context behind the words he was struggling to piece together. 

Once he had gotten home, he put the groceries away, and sat with a tea and bitterly watched the news by himself. 

Late in the evening, Ye jun had gotten a coworker to give him a ride home. He stood outside angrily trying to fix his truck until it was too dark to see properly before coming in. By that point, Mike had already started cooking. 

They sat quietly together and ate. Ye jun was usually most sociable during meals, but he said little while he ate. It wasn't uncommon for Ye jun to withdraw when something was bothering him, but it never stopped Michael from wanting to do something about it. 

Michael put his chopsticks down and nudged at Ye jun's shoulder. "Scoot." 

Michael plopped down in Ye jun's open lap and kissed his forehead. "Did you call Eun ae?" 

Ye jun nodded. "I did." 

"What did she say? Sounded important." 

"Dan's getting promoted, needs to go to Florida for training or some class, fuck I dunno. And Eun ae wants to support him. And you know how they have the frequent flyer mileage piled on," Ye jun rubbed his moustache in thought,"she's trying to figure out what to do with Sadie." 

Michael chewed on his cheek. "What did you say?" 

"Told her I had to talk to you about it." Ye jun rubbed his hand on Michael's thigh. 

Michael inhaled to retort, but stopped himself before saying anything. 

"You don't want to do it." Ye jun answered curtly. 

"It's just…" Michael thought for a moment to say the right words, "I know that they've...led you on before. So I'm a bit hesitant to just go in head first." Michael stroked Ye jun's chest in little circles, doing his best to soothe both of their shot nerves. 

Like ozone hanging in the air before a thunderstorm, Ye jun's deep inhale was all Michael needed to know how this conversation was going to go. "Michael… I have to do this." 

Michael had watched Ye jun climb onto this tightrope only to have it sawed off beneath his feet. Only to watch him climb back up and try again and again to get to the other side. Mike knew he wouldn't be able to save Ye jun's little heart from it. But damn him if he wasn't going to stand under him to watch him fall. 

"Just... Let's play it by ear. And if it works out then it works out. I just don't want to get worked up over nothing." 

Ye jun let out a little sigh of relief. "Okay. Play it by ear. But if it does work out you're… okay right?" 

"Of course I am. What do you think I'm heartless?" 

Ye jun raised his eyebrows and bobbed his head. To which Michael gave him a playful slap. "Oh stop it you. When have I ever not had your back? Name one time. Just one. It'll wait." 

Ye jun simply groaned and started shoving Mike off his lap. "Off. My thigh is killing me." 

Mike stood up wobbly and and balanced himself on Ye jun's shoulder, scattering kisses all over his cheek. "Still waiting." 

"I'll admit it when I'm dead." 

"It's okay let's just ask Jesus," Mike looked up at the crucifix hanging above the kitchen doorway. "Hey Jesus have I ever been unsupportive of my partner before?" 

"No ask Jesus. Please let him be." Ye jun grumbled. 

Michael chuckled and started cleaning up their plates. After supper they usually would sit down and watch the television together. As much as Michael hated television, he relied on the time they spent with it. The routined evenings that reigned Michael in on good and bad days alike. 

Every evening at nine they turned off the tv and retired to bed. For some reason Michael would lie awake for a while and tally how many typical evenings he's had in the week, month, etcetera. Since their last argument. Since his last mental breakdown. Since Ye jun's last withdrawal or setback. 

He wondered if he'd ever stop tallying. But at least he got away with one more typical day.


	2. Chapter 2

There had been several phone calls over the week between Ye jun and his ex. Mike was beginning to think that maybe Eun ae was starting to get serious about the whole ordeal. 

On May thirtieth they got their final confirmation that the half-baked plan was actually the real thing. Dan had bought a two way ticket and there was a takeoff date. Ye jun nearly jumped out of his skin struggling to hold his pen long enough to write it down. He shook all over, finally caving in and allowing Mike to write the date down for him. 

The estimated arrival was on June ninth so it gave them about a week and a half to get the guest room spruced up. Ye jun wondered about the guest room's decor being appropriate, about there being enough food in the house and basically every worry he could have under the sun squeezed into panic attacks scattered across the week. 

Mike was used to it. "Breathe. I'm proud of you. Feel your fingertips. It won't last forever. Breathe. Count backwards from ten. It'll be okay. Breathe." He was used to saying those phrases to help Ye jun come down from whatever emotional high that was bludgeoning his objective reasoning. 

Michael was in his third year of psychology, and he knew most of the words for the things he saw in front of him. But the act of getting his partner to feel the floor beneath him to keep from slipping was something he learned on his own. The words didn't matter. The textbooks didn't matter. Just breathing and allowing those feelings to pass. 

When the ninth finally rolled around, the two men were more than ready. They had already discussed the obvious concern of being homosexuals and agreed with Eun ae over the phone that it wasn't something she needed to worry about. Minimal contact as they would be in any public setting. 

Michael was finally allowing himself to get excited when he put some bottled waters in the back seat of the car. He had been keeping a low profile for the past week but when it came right down to it, he was probably more excited about it than Ye jun.

Ye jun agreed to drive on the way to Portland, and double checked the hatch on the chicken coop before getting in the truck. After replacing the belt, and giving it a much needed oil change, his truck finally sputtered back to life about two days ago. 

After the house was locked up they both got in the truck. Mike put the radio on and hummed along to the music as Ye jun drove as stiff as a board. He stayed like that for a good long bit. 

"What if she doesn't like me?" 

Mike audibly scoffed. "Junebug." 

"No I'm serious." Ye jun jutted his jaw out, refusing to let up on the wheel. 

"We'll then don't do anything to make her dislike you." Mike crossed his arms and leaned back into the seat. 

"Do the psycho thing until I feel better." 

"Okay you want the psycho analysis? I think you're projecting your insecurities into a situation that otherwise wouldn't go sideways. And in doing so, allowing it to damage your feeling about the situation before it even goes wrong just to cut to the chase." Michael grumbled. 

"Oh I don't like that." 

"Just stop...worrying about what she's gonna be like. You're gonna make this problem seem a lot bigger in your head than it is, then of course it's gonna be daunting. I know you've been waiting a long time for this so that's plenty of time to inflate the problem as well. It'll be okay. She'll like you."

Ye jun rubbed his moustache quietly. 

"You don't feel better do you?" Michael shook his head. 

"Not really no." 

"Listen. I love you. You've been through a hell of a lot worse. We'll get through this together okay?" Michael patted his shoulder. Ye jun let out a little sigh, but his body refused to follow suit. 

It took about two and a half hours before they got to the airport. Michael asked most of the front desk questions and they waited patiently by the unloading docks. Another hour passed before their flight number came up on the unloading screen. 

They stood and waited with a sign in-hand as a crowd of people came down the threadbare carpeted steps in twos, fours, threes. And one little girl all by herself. 

Sadie Morris was a small lanky thing, which was surprising to Michael because he had assumed she would have the same shape as her mother. But it was also safe to assume she was going through a growth spurt. She was wearing a baggy green and white striped t-shirt tucked into yellow capri pants and she had her hair up in two buns. What the most striking thing about her was how much she looked like her father. 

Sadie pulled her luggage alongside her and walked up to the couple holding her name on a card and squinted. 

"I need names. So I know you guys aren't some weirdos." 

Michael busted out in a fit of laughter. "Well you're sharp as a tack ain't ya sweetheart? Suppose you don't remember me. What with the hair and all. I'm your uncle Mike, and that's your uncle Jun." 

Michael gestured to Ye jun, who was turning paler by the second. 

"Yeah the names check out." She adjusted her little backpack and pulled at her suitcase handle. 

"Do you need to see some I.D. little missy?" Mike chuckled. 

"No. Mom told me just the names." 

"By golly you're so darned big! When we last saw you, you were this tall," Mike gestured her height and kneeled a bit before giving her a bear hug. "Hope you don't mind. I'm a hugger." 

Sadie awkwardly patted back before Mike parted. He placed his hands on his hips. "Are you hungry? That flight must have been awfully long. We can take you out to eat." 

"Not really? They had cookies. And Sprite." She glanced at Ye jun for a moment. "Mostly I'm tired." 

"Okay. Well then let's get the rest of your luggage and go home."

After almost an hour of waiting for the luggage to unload, they finally grabbed Sadie's things and piled them into the truck. 

"Is that your house?" She pointed quite literally at a large parking garage, one very much like the one they just left. 

"Absolutely. We have a mattress in the corner for you. And tons of rats and you can name every one of them if you like." 

She chuckled and strained against her seatbelt to look out the window. "I've never been in a small town. Do you guys have cows?" 

"Well, you have been to Hood River, when you were a baby. And there are some cows, but we don't have any." 

"Aw boo! You're taking me to a place with 'hood' in the name and you don't even have any cows. Lame." 

"Will chickens make up for it?" Mike glanced over at Ye Jun, who was busying himself by looking through the seven and eight tracks in the glovebox. 

"You guys have chickens?!" She bounced in her seat with excitement. 

"Yes ma'am. We have eight chickens, and a dog named Oscar." 

"We have a fish at home. His name is Goldie. We're not allowed to have a dog in my apartment." She folded her arms and frowned. 

"How's Chicago been treating you? It's awful big ain't it." 

"Well I'm only allowed on the block, and anywhere from my school to home. And someone has to watch for cars when we play four square. Davin Hall keeps telling everyone his brother's in a gang but he's such a liar. My mom says he's never even seen a gang before." She spoke in long exhales between chewing a wad of gum loudly. 

Michael blinked a few times before deciding on how to respond. "Well it sounds like Davin's trying to fit in. I wouldn't worry about it too much." 

Sadie put her hands on the passenger seat and lurched forward to look at Ye jun. "I've got a question. If you're mom's brother then why doesn't she ever talk about you?" 

Ye jun fumbled some of the tapes onto the floor and cursed under his breath. He leaned down to collect them. The glazed look in his eyes was enough for Michael to know he needed to intervene. 

"We'll, um. It's because we're not really your uncles sugarpie. More like old friends of the family." He chuckled nervously. 

Sadie continued to ask more questions on the ride home, asking about their dog and what kind of house they lived in and even how old Michael was, which was older than he liked to admit. Even after Ye jun had gotten through the second track he hadn't spoken a word. 

"Uncle Jun what happened to your hands?" She smacked away at her gum. Michael's hands started sweating from his grip on the steering wheel. 

He glanced at Ye jun's hands. They were weathered and scarred from years of working on farming equipment. But what Sadie was probably referring to were his lack of fingers. Ye Jun only had seven full digits in total, including thumbs. Some of them were paralized or crooked and he had severe nerve damage, having lost most sensation in both of them. 

"It's… a long story." Ye jun tucked his hands into his pockets. 

"Now, now young lady that isn't really a polite question. It's not nice to ask people why they're different." 

"I was just asking…" She trailed off and pouted as Michael made a tutting sound. 

Michael quickly changed the subject to a lighter topic and moved on. 

The ride lasted another half an hour before they finally made it into the familiar streets of their hometown. Sadie asked more and more questions, excitedly rolling down the window and leaning out to get a better look. 

It was warm and sunny, and Mike had a sense that summer was gonna hit hard that year. They had a fairly long winter but now the crabapple and dogwood trees were in full bloom and the scotch broom shrubs were doing everything in their power to make Michael's eyes swell shut so he could crash the truck and die. 

Michael finally pulled into the dirt lane that lead to their house. It was a small craftsman style home, with dark wooden shutters and the walls were a lovely shade of green. Originally the house was white, but after years of chipping and complaining about moss scum, both Jun and Michael had agreed it was time for a paint job. With any luck the green paint would hide the moss so they wouldn't have to deal with it ever again. 

Michael and Ye jun had Sadie until the end of August. If Michael had known she would be so full of questions he would have taken an advil first.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Sadie did when Michael parked the truck was squirm out of the window and clamber into the back to unload her luggage. To which Ye jun hurriedly prompted to take up the responsibility himself. The kid and the luggage probably weighed about the same.

As she kicked her feet on the edge of the truck, watching Ye jun hoist her bags and chewing her cotton candy odored gum, Oscar started barking loudly and tried leap up and lap at Ye jun's face. 

Oscar was a red and white collie beagle mix to some degree, and was at that pubescent age that Ye jun couldn't wait to have pass over. He had bought the puppy after Mike had begged for a dog long enough to whittle down his patience over the subject. It was partly worth it to see the look on Michael's face when he opened the box on his thirty fifth birthday. 

Ye jun sputtered and pushed Oscar down as the dog tried worm its tongue into his mouth. Michael had never bothered to teach the damned animal any manners. If he was completely honest with himself, were Mike to seat the dog at the dinner table, Ye jun would probably buckle and allow it. He always did eventually. 

Sadie nervously pulled her feet up to avoid Oscar's manic greeting until Michael whistled for him. And off the dog went jumping into Michael's outstretched arms. 

"Oh Daddy missed you so much! I was gone forever! I know! I know!" Michael cooed as the dog licked his glasses off. 

Sadie hopped down and followed Ye jun as he carried her things up to the porch. "You don't talk much do you?" She adjusted her backpack a bit. 

Ye jun licked his dry lips. "Suppose not." 

"You sound like my mom. You're Korean too right?" She cocked her head and blinked while blowing a giant bubble. 

Ye jun settled on nodding before continuing on with gathering her things. She had six bags in total, but he could make all of them in three trips if he threw them over his shoulder. 

"Hey Uncle Mike, can I go check the place out?" She tentatively grasped at Oscar's long tail as Mike hobbled over to her luggage. 

Mike puffed a bit as he grabbed her briefcase. "Don't you wanna see your room first little missy?"

"She can see it later. The property ends at the pear tree. Don't go past it for now, and keep out of the shed there's a bunch of sharp things there." Ye jun grumbled as he helped Mike with the last bag. 

Sadie was already scrambling for the chicken coop. "Cool thanks!" 

"Ooh. I hope she doesn't get caught against any stray nails. You know that coop is in need of a tune up." Mike finally gave up on dragging the bag and allowed Ye jun to carry it into the house. 

Once inside, Michael pulled out his wheelchair and flopped down tiredly, rubbing at his thighs. "Hate these damned things." 

"Your legs cost fifteen hundred and yet you complain." Ye jun chuckled amusedly. Michael strolled into the kitchen to get started on dinner as Ye jun made his way upstairs with the luggage. Once he was done, he joined Michael in helping with the meal. 

Ye jun busied himself with boiling the beans that had been soaking in the fridge as Mike started on cutting his third green pepper by the kitchen table. 

Michael Rivett was a somewhat tall and skinny fellow, or at least he used to be before he was cut down to size. Nowadays whenever Ye jun pictured Michael in his head, he was always at waist height. He had blue green eyes and what was left of his wavy chestnut hair was usually tied into a doleful ponytail. Much like watching a ship pulling out its sails before falling off the edge of the world. 

Michael wore aviator glasses that magnified his eyes two sizes too big to ever take any arguments seriously with them on. Though, once they were off, Ye jun was usually too weak in the knees to continue arguing anyways. 

Which was why he could feel his tongue slide down his throat when Mike took his glasses off to speak. "What's wrong?"

Ye jun knew how the conversation would go before it had even started. "Later." 

Michael simply tsked, knowing Ye jun was in a way and unwilling to budge on the matter at the moment, and returned to chopping in the exact speed and force needed to express his displeasure. 

After all the vegetables were diced and set aside, Ye jun scraped them off the cutting board and into the pot, and handed Michael a bag of potatoes. 

They quietly made their meal together as Michael hummed a little tune to himself, and all seemed calm and warm as Ye Jun was used to. Yet the air in his lungs felt as heavy as lead. 

As the midday light began to change to a deep orange hue, Sadie tumbled into the kitchen door with dirty pants and leaves in her hair. "You guys have a creek in the woods down there." She panted. 

Mike sat up reflexively, probably startled by the ruckus she was causing. "Oh, well I'd hardly call them woods, but yes there's a creek. Just gotta watch out for toe biters. Nasty bites." 

"For the last time. There are no 'toe biters' in Oregon. It's a myth." Ye jun rolled his eyes. 

Michael pointed his kitchen knife in Ye jun's direction. "Yes there are. Yes there are. The Larson's kid got bitten last summer, remember!" 

"Waterbugs this big! I'm not having this conversation again!" Ye jun picked a small bean out of the pot before tossing it back in. 

"Anyways," Michael waved him off dismissively, "just keep your shoes on when you play in the water okay?" 

Sadie glanced awkwardly at Mike's wheelchair, before promptly minding the scolding she had gotten earlier about impolite questions. "What's for dinner you guys?" 

"We're making chili, go wash up before supper." Mike smiled as he wiped his knife off on a kitchen rag. 

Sadie skittered out of the kitchen, only to pause and hang off the door frame. "Wait where is the bathroom?" 

"It's down the hall past the living room. It'll be to the right dear. If you hit the clock you've gone too far." 

After a while of cooking, Sadie came back into the kitchen as Ye jun started serving up the mashed potatoes. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Ye jun promptly handed her silverware so she could set the table. 

"Do you want me to say grace?" Sadie scooted up her chair.

"Oh, um, we do things a bit differently honey," Michael put the knife and cutting board in the sink, "We take a moment to pray quietly, but you can say grace if you want." 

After Ye jun sat down, the three of them agreed on a moment of silence instead. Sadie took it like a champ and began to serve herself chili, nearly drowning it in cheese and pepper before even trying it. 

She started gabbing again about something that Ye jun felt too far away to hear. 

Ye jun stirred his food quietly, not really knowing how to break his silence, worried that if he were to allow air to pass through his throat that his voice would buckle in. Everything felt surreal, like a sickly sweet dream he was afraid of believing too hard in, and too afraid of waking up from. 

Sadie Morris was perhaps the most obnoxious, intrusive, loudmouthed kid he had met in a hot minute. She was energetic and assertive but above all else she was confident and honest. The contrast couldn't have been more clear than if it were in one of those awful sitcoms that Michael loathed more Fox news or tying his shoe laces. 

Ye jun found himself fixated on her dainty little hands with sparkly powdered blue nail polish. The way her nose curved. Her lips shaped into a thin cupid's bow. The way her eyebrows furrowed when she was thinking. 

"Ye jun are you even listening?" Michael's voice snapped his attention back to the table. 

Ye jun closed his eyes and nodded, hoping to pass off that he was paying attention. Which he was not. 

"I was saying that this weekend we could head out to town and maybe catch a flick. Go to the park. Show Sadie around a bit." 

"Sounds good." He grumbled. Michael simply rolled his eyes and continued talking to Sadie, who rocked in her chair, seeming awfully excited about the idea. 

After dinner was over, Ye jun washed some dishes as Michael taught Sadie how to play a card game. After a bit of that, Michael fed the dog, a marker that they were beginning prepping for bedtime. It was a tad early, but Ye jun was more than willing to crawl into bed at the drop of a hat. 

Michael slowly got out of his chair and began to corral Sadie up the stairs. "All right sugar pie. Unfortunately we've come to the point where I have to lay down the ground rules. If you're playing outside you have to be home by four thirty because dinner is at five o'clock sharp. Television is off by eight thirty." 

"Oh come on!" Sadie frowned. 

"Lights off at nine so you better have everything good and ready by then, because we get up at five in the morning sharp." 

"What? But it's summer!" Sadie protested, turning herself to see Michael as she went up the stairs. 

"Well then it'll give you time to help out with the house chores. We expect you to earn your keep here or else we'll sell you to the circus." Michael frowned, but his tone of voice suggested he was enjoying himself more than he was leading on. 

"That's so unfair! I didn't ask to come here!" She scowled as she made it all the way to the top of the steps. 

"If you think it's unfair then you're welcome to write to the senate to abolish common house rules. Until then you're going to behave and at least try to get along with us. We've got our way around here and you're gonna have to deal with it. Either that or start learning how to swallow swords." Michael huffed and straightened his back. Moving up and down stairs was no easy task for him, and his prosthetics did very little for him dexterity wise. 

"This is so lame." She grumbled. 

"Come on grumpy breeches, let's show you your room." 

Shuffling down the upstairs hallway, Michael opened the door and showed her in, while Ye jun stood close by outside. 

The guest room had a bed and a dresser in it but not much else. The bed had an old dark wood frame, and it had two quilts folded up on top of the fresh sheets. Ye jun had been very careful to pick quilts that felt less, as Sadie might put it: lame. The curtains were white and the walls were unadorned save for a wall mirror. 

"I know it's a bit bare bones, but I hope it'll do. The hotel phone service is down so if you need a glass of water you're going to have to get it from the sink." 

"Gee thanks." Sadie muttered and dejectedly tossed her little backpack on the bed. 

Michael swayed from one leg to the other, probably feeling a bit of discomfort from being on them all day. "I know you're a bit disappointed, but chin up. It'll be good for you to get out of that city for a while. Get yer hands dirty. Say, you know, I bet this room could use a little bit of decorating. Think you're up for the task?" 

"Yeah... okay." She flopped down on her bed and pouted. 

"Do you... want us to tuck you in?" Michael scratched the back of his neck and winced. 

"I'm eleven I don't need tuck-ins." She replied curtly, looking very much like she wanted them to go away. 

"Well then, all right. Independent I see." Michael nodded and shooed Ye jun out of the doorway, before giving her an awkward good night and closing the door. It brought Ye jun some relief to see Michael grasping for straws with the kid. It made Ye jun feel more adequate for the moment. Perhaps it was wrong of him to think like that, but he was willing to take whatever solace he got in the ordeal. 

After they both crawled into bed, usually they would catch up on reading. Ye jun would take medications to help keep him asleep. Sometimes they would have a gentle conversation. But instead Ye jun ended up reading the same paragraph over and over until he gave up and laid down facing away from Michael's light. 

"Are we green or still orange?" Mike flipped a page as loudly as possible. 

"Can I say orange? Am I allowed to say orange?" Ye jun muttered into his sleeve. They had been to couple's counseling for a few years now, and were advised to establish a red light/ green light system to practice 'mindful communication' for whatever that meant. For some reason they skipped yellow. 

Orange usually meant a 'not now' discussion. 

"You can say orange if you want. But you said later. It's later. Can we talk about it?" 

Ye jun groaned and sat up. "Fine." 

Michael pursed his lips and lazily looked down his nose at his book."You make it sound like I'm twisting your arm. I mean you can throw a red right in my face if you want but things aren't going to get better by ignoring the problem until it 'goes away' We both know how much you like that tactic." 

"Okay okay. I get it," Ye jun folded his arms up, "it's just… you. You talk to her so well. It's easy for you." 

Michael finally closed his book and took his glasses off. "Well, it's this secret psychological method I've been reading up on called faking it. I'm faking it. I don't know what I'm doing either." 

Ye jun sighed. "Well you're faking it better than me." 

"I told-I told you that this would happen. I knew this was going to happen. Off the cuff. you're letting this big ol' inferiority complex get in the way of the ticket to your own catharsis. I could have a watch set to it." 

"You're not helping!" Ye jun snapped, and then took a moment to breathe and check his tone, "Please. Can we just drop the textbook stuff for one second." Ye jun pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it again. Just… get frustrated watching you beat yourself up is all. I'm nervous about the whole thing too." Mike scooted up closer to him until they were sitting shoulder to shoulder. 

"It's just… you're good with her…and I dunno… it makes me feel...um..." Ye jun chewed on his lips. 

"Finish what you were thinking Junebug." Michael patted his chest with a comforting smile. 

Ye jun was quiet for a moment. And when he spoke again his voice croaked with the subtlety of a brick being dropped off the balcony of an empty opera house. 

"She's just so big." 

The last thing he ever wanted to be 'right now' was vulnerable. Small. Too tired to play the same charade he had grown skillful in. Bleeding too much to pretend he was good to stand upright. But all the same Michael rested his head on Ye jun's chest and sighed the same sigh he's heard a thousand times or more. 

"I know baby." 

Usually one would think that acknowledging the catastrophe in the room would be enough for it to stop being a catastrophe. But for Ye jun, a walking catastrophe of a man, acknowledgement somehow miraculously didn't make him feel any better. 

Knowing that Michael was mentally swiping off the numbers on his 'typical day count', Ye jun fell asleep wondering if the emotional backflips he took to avoid genuine happiness were the real miracle.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been two days since Sadie had shown up to her so-called 'uncle's' home. Their mornings started when the light was still a pale gray and ended before anything started getting any good. 

She had already been scolded both days for being out past four thirty before admitting that she honestly did not know what time it was. Usually at home she would play outside until the street lights were on. And Ye jun's property, although being about five acres, was low on street lights. Uncle Mike let her borrow his wrist watch. 

The inside of their house was old. It smelled like cigarettes. The floors creaked, her door was only slightly crooked in its frame and her sheets were too starchy. It felt like she had been sent away to some boot camp even though she had done nothing to deserve it. 

Every morning started with feeding the dog, collecting eggs from the chickens and hosing out their troughs. Then she had to help them fix a part of rotting fencing, which meant standing very still and not talking as she handed Uncle Jun screws one at a time. After that they had breakfast. Uncle Mike had made them all some blueberry pancakes and oatmeal. She tried a slice of grapefruit, only to decide that she didn't like grapefruit.

Uncle Mike was often long winded, and would laugh about things that Sadie didn't understand what was so funny. He was missing one of his front teeth which made him look like a cartoon character of some kind. Although she would never disclose that thought. But every time she had messed up so far, he hadn't yelled at her. Which was surprising by how loudly he could laugh. 

Uncle Jun on the other hand was harder to pinpoint. He didn't talk much, and when he did it was gruff and to the point. Sadie decided early on that uncle Mike would be the one she would go to to ask for stuff. Getting on Uncle Jun's bad side felt like it was going to be a bad time for her. 

On day three, Sadie's uncle took her to see 'The Goonies' in the town theatre. It was pretty rad. The movie theatre was small and nearly empty. Considering it wasn't even noon might have been a kay factor in that. Who on earth besides old people would go to see a movie before noon? 

It was hot outside, the sky was blindingly blue, and riding home the inside of the truck was stuffy. The town made different noises than the city. More organic. Most of the noises Sadie couldn't name except the occasional crow or the sound tires made when riding over old gritty pavement. 

The town was small. The ponds were small. The churches were small. Hell even their mall was small. Most of the buildings were about as old and boring looking as her uncles. That was until she saw kids hanging out in a baseball field. Some of them were driving around on shiny impressive bikes. 

She excitedly tapped the glass on the truck window. "Wait wait wait. Can we stop here? I wanna go check out the baseball field."

"Um. I suppose..." Uncle Jun winced and pulled over into the weed-ridden roadside. 

"Cool thanks bye!" She got out of the truck as fast as she could go. 

"Woah woah, wait a minute. Cool your jets. Wait for us." Mike started unbuckling and swung the door open. 

"Um…Uncle Mike the movie was cool and all but…" she kinda shuffled in the dirt. 

"But what? Do you just want me to leave you on the roadside?" He leaned out the door, bent over his lap enough to meet her at eye level. 

"Er… it's just… I just thought it would be cool to check it out..." Sadie tried to find the right words to say so she didn't sound mean about wanting to ditch them. 

"Mike, she's trying to say we're cramping her style. She doesn't want us hovering over her." Uncle Jun put it dryly. Sadie could feel her face getting hot because it was pretty much exactly what she was trying to say and hearing it out loud was kinda terrible of her. 

Mike pouted for a moment, but nodded solemnly. "It's a twenty minute walk from here to home. Do you know how to get there now?" 

"I'm not a baby you guys. I walk more than that in Chicago." She kicked a pebble. 

"Well okay then, lil' miss grown up. Here's some change for the payphone if you need us, and a little extra for a coke if you want. Go mingle and make some friends honey." He handed her about three dollars in quarters and dimes and patted her head before closing the door back up.

"Okay! okay! Jeez!" She growled and groomed her hair down. She watched their old truck drive off down the little concrete bridge until it disappeared behind the dappling of trees growing under. 

The ledge hanging over the baseball field was too high to slide down, and the fence didn't help the cause. She had to find her way around for the entrance. She kicked a can out of the way. Her uncles talked to her like she was a giant dumb baby and it was getting on her nerves. If they thought leaving her unsupervised in literally the most boring town on earth was dangerous, then neither of them would last ten minutes in her city. 

As she walked down the slope of the ledge, she pulled at the tall grasses and leaves. She never really played baseball, but she was a good biker. Except for the fact that she was just now remembering that she didn't have a bike here. 

This summer was going to suck. 

As annoying as it was to feel like a new kid, she had to try something unless she was going to play by herself the whole time. Otherwise she was gonna be stuck watching the news with two old guys for two months. She started prepping herself on what she was going to say. 

Hi I'm Sadie Morris pleased to meet you. 

Ugh no that was lame. Maybe she would just compliment one of their bikes and hope she sounded cool doing it. Once she got to the baseball field she kinda teetered towards the benches to get a feel of the place. 

Most of the kids were about eight or nine, and would rather play horse than a legitimate sport. If Sadie were to go over and try to play horse they would probably think she was a crackhead and her social life would be over before it even started. 

After a couple of minutes of pouting she finally spotted a group of kids her age hanging out next to some parked bikes. 

There were two boys, one with dirty rolled jeans and an ugly haircut. And the other had shorts and a striped sleeveless top and a letterman jacket hanging over his shoulder. And there was a girl with a blue spaghetti string tank top and eyeshadow, sitting with what was probably her sister, seeing how they looked a lot alike. Here goes nothing. 

Sadie tried her best to seem nonchalant about going up and talking to them, but she ended up just standing there and staring for maybe too long. 

"Hey I haven't seen your face before. What do you want?" The boy with the bad haircut piped up, grasping at his baseball bat. 

"That's a cool bike. Who's is it?" She pointed at the red bike with the banana seat and customizing stickers. 

"That's mine," said the boy in the sleeveless top, "I fixed her up myself. Name's Shirley." 

"Wait, your name's Shirley?" Sadie snorted. 

"No you dolt, the bike's name is Shirley. I'm Max, and this is Tyson, Bri, Carol." 

"Hi!" Carol, the sister-in-question twittled her fingers. Sadie sheepishly did the same. She walked closer to the group, less worried about the group's overall hostility than before. 

"You're not from around here? Did you just move here?" Max tossed his jacket onto his bike handles. 

"I live in Chicago. I'm just visiting my uncles." Sadie swayed on her feet a bit. 

"Okay cool. You didn't tell us your name." Max opened up a stick of gum and threw the wrapper into the grass. 

"Oh the name's Sadie. And my mom says I'm an Aries but psh, what does that even mean right?" She shrugged for comedic value. 

Bri stood up and brushed off the wrinkles in her white pleated skirt. "So you're from the city? What's it like?" 

Sadie thought for a moment. "Well it doesn't have a lot of cows. And there's more street signs and you gotta wait to walk and you gotta be careful or you'll step on gum. It's also colder there most of the time. How do you guys even deal with this heat?" 

"Oh that's cool! Are there real cops and robbers like on TV? We have a traffic cop but he only gives people tickets. Nothing cool ever happens around here!" Carol shouted excitedly as Bri grabbed a low-hanging branch and swung on it. 

"Well… I mean we had this one guy arrested for having too many puppies. And then someone broke into our school vending machine but I didn't see it. And sometimes there's weird guys and my mom tells me not to talk to them because they're druggies or whatever." Sadie laughed. 

Max hopped onto his bike and scooted up to Bri. "We were about to go get some grub. You can come if you want I guess. You don't have a bike so you can ride with either Carol or Tyson." 

"That sounds cool," Sadie replied with a much-practiced air of aloofness,"I gotta be home by four thirty or my ass is grass though." 

"Oh yeah? Where do you live?" 

"Elm Street. It's past that old barn that looks abandoned. About twenty minutes from here It's a green house." 

"Green house? Wait who do you say you lived with?" Max looked at her with a puzzled frown. 

"My uncles. Well, they're not really my uncles but-" 

"Wait isn't that the house that has that weird guy with the wooden peglegs? Tyson cut her off. 

"No you idiot! peglegs are what pirates have!" Max shouted at him. 

"Well, whatever. I heard that a guy got murdered there. Didn't a guy get murdered there?" Tyson sneered. 

Bri gave Sadie a worried glance before hopping on the back of Max's bike. "Um… my mom told me I'm not allowed to go near that house…" 

Carol mumbled in agreement before she and Tyson got on their respective bikes. 

Sadie frowned. Early on she noticed that Mike used a wheelchair around the house, and the thought that his legs were wooden was starting to make more sense. Even when he did walk he had a limp, but she didn't see why that was a good reason to freak out over it. As Uncle Mike put it, it was impolite to point out people's differences. 

"I think I have to ask my mom first." Bri clutched onto Max's torso. 

"Come on you guys it's not that bad." Sadie pouted, not wanting to be ditched. 

"Besides, you don't even have a bike." Max rolled his eyes as he and Tyson started riding off, leaving Sadie behind with Carol. 

Carol hissed through her teeth before going after them. "Sorry! M-maybe next time." Her bike rolled over the grass, leaving a little trails that crisscrossed trails left by other bikes. Bikes like the one Sadie didn't have. 

Sadie kicked at the grass dejectedly. That was weird. What did peglegs have to do with anything? Then she got a horrible pit in her gut. What if her uncles did murder someone? 

Just then, she heard heavy breathing from someone running past her. She turned around to see a tall kid out of breath. They were wearing a jean jacket and rolled pants sleeves, and they were wearing a bright red bandanna styled like a headband to keep their feathered bangs out of their face. What was most striking is they were carrying a large wooden sword. 

At first she thought they might be a boy, but when they spoke, it came out in a very raspy pubescent girl's voice. "Have you seen a guy with a red varsity jacket?" 

Two other kids ran up next to her, equally as out-of-breath. One was more obviously a girl with pink cat-eye glasses, frizzy red hair and freckles so prevalent that her skin looked like salami. The other one was a boy with a black hoodie and gray shorts and well-loved sneakers. 

"Um… Yeah. Why?" Sadie shoved her hands in her pockets nervously. 

"No time to explain. Which way did he go?" The tall girl puffed. 

Sadie pointed up the way. "That way, but he's on a bike so you won't." 

"We need recruits. You in or out?" The tall girl started jogging in place.

"They're probably going to the sandwich shop." The redhead squawked. 

"Well be better intercept them on Main. We've got approximately ten minutes to get there. Then all we have to do is wait." The tall girl ordered, pointing her sword determindley. 

"Here hold these." The boy in the hoodie handed Sadie a couple of water balloons that looked too dark and opaque to possibly be holding water. The kids started taking off up the walkway leading out of the ballfield. 

"Um… can anyone tell me what's going on?" Sadie shouted exasperatedly as she had no choice but to follow them. She was holding balloons filled with God knows what and was already an accessory so she may as well just get filled in so she could plead her case. 

"There's four of them and three of us. We need a fourth member to even us out." The redhead informed her while simultaneously being as uninformative as possible. 

"We are in a never-ending feud with the Edenville troop. Their leader stole my favorite jacket from our base and I'm not gonna rest until those hoity toidy bastards pay for it," The tall girl turned around to look Sadie square in the eye, "it's gonna be a bloodbath." 

The other two started chanting the word blood loudly and Sadie decided that these guys were unhinged enough that she needed to duck out asap. 

She followed them, looking for an opening to leave, but found none to her dismay. They went into the center of town, with the tall one leading the horde of weirdness along with her. 

They were instructed to hide behind some cars parked around the corner of the auto shop and wait for the tall one's signal. Sadie had no idea what she was getting herself into. Was she in a gang now? Did this qualify as a gang? Her mom was gonna kill her. 

But she held onto her water balloons because she was tired of being bored out of her mind all day. If she was going to prison then she was going to prison. After a few minutes of waiting, the redhead made bird wings with her hands. Sadie could hear bikes ride around from behind the car she was pressed against. 

Her heart raced as the tall girl told them to hold back and wait. Max was laughing about something. Then the signal was given. 

The boy in the hoodie sat up and threw a couple of water balloons in front of their bikes, stopping them in their tracks. Immediately the splattering of the balloons were followed by the most putrid odor imaginable. 

The boys got off their bikes coughing and sputtering. Tyson growled angrily, grabbing his baseball bat. "The freakshows are back! Let's get 'em!"

"Don't throw until I get my jacket back." The tall girl growled at Sadie and leaped out with her wooden sword in hand. 

Hoodie boy threw another stink bomb at Bri, utterly destroying her white pleated skirt as she shrieked and carried on. "You guys are disgusting! what is wrong with you?" 

Redhead kicked over their bikes one by one as the tall girl swung her wooden sword with the fury of ten gangly girls. Tyson struck her arm with a loud thud and she fell over on her side. Max started fistfighting Hoodie boy as Tyson and Tall girl scuffled and rolled over on the floor. 

Redhead tried to grab the jacket off of Max's waist, but he bumped her to the ground and stomped on her hand. 

Sadie's blood went hot. And before she knew what she was doing, she had charged at Max, bowling him over, and giving Hoodie boy the opportunity to rip the jacket off of Max. 

Max immediately overpowered her, pinning her to the ground. He placed a knee over her sternum. "Looks like you picked the wrong friends." He dangled a loogie over her cheek. Loogies never scared Sadie before and she wasn't about to let them scare her now. 

With all her strength she flopped Max over to her side, landing him on two of her dropped stink bombs. The smell was so bad it made her eyes water. Max screamed and scrambled away from the horrible stench of a thousand dead animals. 

"I got the jacket!" Hoodie boy shouted as he helped Redhead off the ground. 

"Fall back," shouted the tall girl. 

The few seconds it took the Edenvilles to get on their bikes was enough for the tall girl's troop to take off down the street that veered off the grocery store corner. Bikes pedalling fast, the Edenvilles were hot on their trail, nearly breathing down their necks. 

"Come on!" The tall girl ushered them to turn a sharp right down a narrow alley. The troop came up to a wood fence, which Sadie was prompted to climb along with them. 

As the Edenvilles clambered up the fence, Sadie followed the weird crew into a thicket off the side of the town. The only building there was an old wooden smoke shed that looked like it hasn't been occupied in years, having been nearly covered in leaf litter and ivy. The tall girl started climbing onto the roof along with the other two. 

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Sadie called out from the floor, nearly out of breath. 

"Do you want your ass beat?" The tall girl lended her a hand. Tyson was coming full-force after Sadie's kneecaps with his baseball bat as the Tall girl and Hoodie boy hoisted her up. Once she was up on the roof she realized it had been reinforced with a few new planks of wood. Probably by the weird kids themselves. 

Redhead grabbed a chum bucket filled to the brim with stink bombs and started hucking them over the ledge indescriminatly. As the stench rose higher and higher, one by one the Edenvilles retreated. 

Max threw a rock, but gave up all the same. "You freaks better watch your back. We'll get you for this!" He shouted before following his crew back to where they left their bikes. 

Sadie Morris was scuffed up and bruised. She stunk to high heavens and she was shaking all over. She nearly died. 

"That… was...awesome!!" She exclaimed. 

"Yeah she seems pretty rad you guys," the tall girl smiled and threw her jacket over her shoulder, "you really took a wallup back there. And it wasn't even your jacket. Thanks man. Righteous." 

"Yeah that was super cool how you stuck it to that buttface! He's always kicking us around and teasing my little brother! You made him look like a total geed." The redhead cheered. 

"Yeah maybe they'll think twice before raiding the smoke house again!" Hoodie boy high fived Sadie. 

"I'm Max, and this is Katelyn, Jake." The tall girl introduced herself. Jake waved a bit. 

"Max? Isn't that the other guy's name?" Sadie tilted her head, giggling a bit. 

"Short for Maxine. I was born in February, He was born in August. It was my name first dude." Max hissed through her teeth. 

"Yeah of course he's a Leo. Leos and Pisces don't mix. Me, I'm an Aries though." Katelyn smiled, flashing her large braces. 

"Oh crap I'm an Aries too!" Sadie patted her chest. 

Katelyn squealed at a decibel that only dogs could hear. "It's like we were meant to be!"

Sadie chuckled "It's funny because at first I thought his name was Shirley." The group busted out laughing like it was the funniest joke they've ever heard. 

"So what's your name Hotshot?" Max smiled and sat down on the roof with her legs crossed.

"Sadie Morris. I'm visiting from Chicago."   
Sadie smiled back. 

"Well Sadie Morris from Chicago. The Meathook troop only takes in the elite. Creme of the crop. And that's with a two thirds vote. All who want Sadie Morris to be accepted into the Meathooks say aye." Max raised her hand. 

"Aye." 

"Aye." Jake and Katelyn raised their hands as well. 

"So what'll it be, Sadie? Wanna join our club?" Max leaned on her battle-scarred sword. Sadie took a moment to swallow until her throat was no longer dry. 

"Sounds cool I guess." 

And like that Sadie was a member of possibly the weirdest group of kids in town. When it was finally time to go home, they were more than willing to walk her all the way, but she opted out at the street sign. She couldn't help but think about the way the Edenvilles reacted to her living in the green house on Elm street. And she couldn't help but think about what that even meant in this weird town.


	5. Chapter 5

When Sadie walked through the door, Michael could not believe the powerful stench humming off her tiny twiggy form. She told Michael that she tried to pet a weird cat, which Mike also found it hard to believe that she didn't know what a skunk was. Especially since the odor smelled less like a skunk and more like a rotting vat of hotdog meat paste and low tide if they had a baby. Then again Sadie did grow up in the city, so Michael decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. 

He had Ye jun open up all the windows, and had Sadie march herself to go take a bath. Or however many baths it would take to get that odor off of her. 

That evening meal, Michael tried to reserve himself from butting into whatever dialogue that would otherwise happen naturally at the table. Talking over Ye jun was something he was working on, but not great at withholding the impulse just yet. 

But instead, their supper conversation came to an aggressive halt every time, unless Mike prompted otherwise. Ye jun wasn't naturally verbose in any sense of the word, but his dead silence at the table was enough to nearly drive Michael up the wall.

Sadie also wasn't her usual gabby self, which to Michael's knowledge was against her usual agenda: talking, chewing gum, and deciding what's lame and what's cool. 

Michael asked her what was wrong and she just sort of scowled at him. And not in a cute cheeky way, but in a dirty scathing way that was surprising to come from such a small child. It rattled Michael more than he would have liked to admit. 

He decided not to push the matter any further. That was until her attitude rolled all the way into the next morning. She woke up late and took her time getting ready for the day. Any curious questions or excitability exchanged for apathetic gazes or annoyed sighs. 

During their routine morning chores, as she held down the chicken's feed trough, Michael scrubbed the insides, ducking his head in for a better angle. She moved a bit, and the trough bumped the back of his head with a metallic thud. 

"Dammit. Keep it still." Michael frowned and rubbed his head until the sting left him. 

"I'm trying okay? Cool your jets!" She glowered at him. 

"You check your tone with me young lady. Or you're gonna have to scoot your caboose to your room for a bit," Michael pointed a finger at her, "now let's get this done quickly so it's over and done with."

"Ugh fine!" She groaned as Michael finished scrubbing. 

"Now help me up." Michael held his hand out and Sadie pulled until he was upright. But that's as long as she stayed before she stormed off into the house. 

Michael took a couple of deep breaths as he hosed the trough down. Ye jun had already gone to work, and Michael was not looking forward to spending his entire day looking after a moody pre-teen. So going back into the house wasn't an idea he particularly adored. 

He went inside, and struggled to take his muddy boots off, cursing under his breath a few times until he wiggled out of them. Really he was considering investing in cowboy boots despite them clashing with what little stylistic taste he possessed. He wondered if they would be easier or harder to take off his stiff prosthetic feet. He was really close to breaking and purchasing a shoe horn any day. 

After he shuffled to the kitchen, he got himself a glass of water, only to find Sadie laying on her back on the kitchen floor with her limbs splayed out. 

Michael rolled his eyes. "All right I give. We're gonna have a little talk." He lowered himself into a kitchen chair. 

"Oh barf. Can't you see I'm trying to die here?" Sadie croaked and stuck her tongue out dramatically. 

"Sit. We're having a talk." He pulled a seat out a bit, the leg of the chair nudging her gently. 

"You're not my dad. I don't have to do anything you say." Sadie groaned, refusing to move as Michael moved the chair back and forth rhythmically. 

Michael frowned. "Sadie. Come on now. I can see you're upset I'm not a damned fool." 

"Fine. Then will you leave me alone?" She rolled up off the floor and sat in her chair, scooting it loudly enough for Michael to flinch. 

"Sure if that's what you want. By all means I'll leave you alone. We can both leave each other alone," Michael sighed and placed his elbows on the table to rub his temples, "So what's eating ya?" 

Sadie pretended to die again, slouching in her chair and gurgling. As annoying as it was to Michael, he let the moment pass as quietly as he could. "This house is so boring and all I do all day is chores! And you guys keep bossing me around. I don't even want to be here. I hate it here." 

"Sadie we talked about this. It's just gonna be that way. The chickens need to be fed and cared for. The house needs cleaning." Mike grumbled. 

"Yeah but I'm supposed to be having fun and it's already eight o'clock, and I don't get an allowance or anything." She pulled on her red scrunchy, tightening her messy ponytail. 

Michael's brows furrowed in thought. "An allowance? We never said anything about an allowance. I gave you money for food and drinks. We're buying you things when we go out to the store and taking you to fun places. What do you need an allowance for?"

Sadie sat up and crossed her arms, pouting like it was going to make Mike budge somehow. Early on, before Sadie ever arrived, Michael decided to take on the hardass role so Ye jun wouldn't have to do it. He felt it was a small sacrifice on Mike's end so long as Ye jun had room to breathe. But now that he was having to do it, he found it difficult to make her upset in any way. Mike wanted Sadie to like him. 

Maybe it was time to try something new. 

Michael adjusted his posture and took a deep breath. "Okay, instead of getting annoyed with each other, let's try talking about our thoughts out loud. Would you like to try and tell me why you want an allowance, Sadie? So I can understand where you're coming from." 

Sadie didn't budge. She put her head down into her crossed arms. The negotiations were getting tough. 

"Fine then, I'll talk about my feelings first. I'm gonna be honest with you. I don't… know what you need. I never had children, so I'm still new at this. So if we can talk about it then I can understand how you're feeling and maybe we can do something about it. So, can we talk about it?" 

Sadie lifted her head, only long enough to glance at him before putting her head back down. "It's just… all the other kids in this town have bikes. I have a bike at home. And I have friends at home… and if I have an allowance…" 

Michael smiled, his thoughts suddenly dancing with delightful mischief. "Oh, I know this one. When I was your age I had the sweetest bike okay? Blue Huffy with racing stripes, I had a portable FM strapped on it, lucky rabbit's foot. And one day I crashed it into a tree. That's how I found out I needed glasses, but my new glasses were so expensive that I couldn't get a new bikes." 

"Yeah?" She lifted her head with a small amount of hope in her eyes. Michael was relieved that there was such a simple solution to the problem. 

"Yeah. It sucked," He patted her head. Sadie giggled at his crude language, "It's true, it sucked. None of my friends would slow down for me. Unfortunately if I gave you an allowance you wouldn't be able to get a bike by the end of the summer. But I tell you what. I'll cut you a deal." 

"I'm listening." Sadie eyed him suspiciously. 

"Saying, hypothetically, we could buy you a bike now, and you work for us and do chores around the house to pay it off for the rest of the summer. Which means maybe instead of getting a dollar for a day of work, we give you a quarter? Sounds fair?" 

"You're really gonna get me a bike just like that?" Sadie stood up with excitement. 

"I mean hypothetically we could go down to the store and pick one out right now if you wanted. But that means no more complaining about chores, and no more dramatic oozing on the floor ya dig?" 

"You've got yourself a deal Mike my good man." She held out her hand to shake on it. Michael stood up as well and kissed her hand instead. 

"All right let's head out and go to pick out the grooviest bike they got sweetie. After that I gotta do a little shopping for wood glue but that's about it." 

"Haha you said groovy like an old guy." She chuckled. 

"Thirty six is not that old crazy pants." 

After prompting to get dressed, Sadie came downstairs in some jean overalls and a baggy red sweater. Her pretty blue nail polish was getting chipped and Michael seriously worried for a moment if she even had brought any bottles. He also considered getting her some more. 

Once he changed into his day sneakers he was ready to go. 

It was a short drive to the hardware store, but as far as Sadie was concerned, it was taking far too long for Michael to pick out a wood glue. Which Michael savored for a short while. Impatience towards Michael's tedious purchases seemed to run in the family. 

Once they hit the back wall though, Sadie nearly ditched him entirely, which he had to prompt her to slow down so he could hobble over. 

Sadie looked over the bike selection for a while, touching the baskets and the streamers with deep thought. She looked over the five bikes several times. She sighed a bit and frowned. 

"What about this one? It's cute. And the wood finish is really snazzy." Michael chuckled at the yellow bike. 

"Is this all there is?" Sadie huffed. 

Michael furrowed his brows and looked around for an employee. "Yeah probably. What's wrong with them?" 

"Well the yellow one will get dirty fast because of the color. And the pink bike's spokes are trash." She shrugged. 

"Well we could get new spokes honey. That's no big issue." 

"Yeah but… like the frames are kinda… flimsy…" 

Michael thought for a moment. There were twelve bikes in total, seven of which had different frames than the ones she was looking at. "What about these ones?" 

"Those are boy's bikes though." She blinked at Michael as if he had just sprouted another head. 

"So? It won't burn your flesh if you ride one. I mean...I suppose you might get teased a bit. But if you're worried about frames not holding up it might be a smarter investment in the long run." Michael scrubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, not honestly knowing whether or not it was a huge deal to Sadie. Or her parents for that matter. 

Sadie tentatively ran a finger down a plain looking red bike with a black seat. "This one...looks pretty cool. I guess." 

"Do you want it?" Michael crossed his arms and chuckled. 

"Hang on! hang on! Let me keep looking for a sec." Sadie waved him off and continued to look at the boys bikes for almost half as long as the girls bikes before deciding on the black and red one again. 

After she made her final decision, Michael went and got an employee to help them bring it to the checkout. After purchasing it they hit the pavement. 

Sadie started mounting the bike almost the second Michael cut the tag off with his pocket knife. "Okay thanks bye!" 

"Now wait a minute. I know you want to hang out with the other kids and all, but do you really want to pass up ice cream?" 

Michael was not prepared for the sheer volume of the squeal that came out of Sadie's mouth. "I get a bike and ice cream!?" 

"Yes yes, now keep it down you're gonna make people think I'm beating you." 

Sadie followed him around the block, showering him with thanks and praise and compliments. Compliments like, "your hair's looking really full today." were a little unnecessary, but it made Michael chuckle all the same. 

Once they got to the ice cream parlor, Michael got Sadie a scoop of rocky road per request. Michael got his usual. Then they sat down on the curb together. 

"What flavor is that?" Sadie pointed at his bright pink ice cream.

"Bubble gum. I always get it. It's got real bits of gum in it." Michael licked the edges to keep it from sleuthing off his waffle cone. 

"You like gum too?" Sadie bit into her ice cream like a heathen. Just looking at it made his teeth ache. 

"Oh yeah. Love it." Michael had always had a bit of a sweet tooth ever since he was a kid.

"What kind does Uncle Jun get?" 

"Usually mint. Sometimes vanilla or chocolate." Michael shrugged. 

"Haha. Those flavors are boring." She giggled and tapped her little pink sneakers together. 

They ate quietly for a while. Michael watched as a few lazy clouds took turns overcasting the town, lasting only a few minutes at a time before passing over. There was enough of a breeze today to keep the heat from building up too much. If it kept up like this it might even rain. 

"Hey Uncle Mike?" Sadie broke the silence meekly. There was a look in her eyes that seemed like gears were turning, although Michael wasn't certain what it was for. 

"Yeah sugar pie?" Michael batted his eyes at her. 

"Why don't you have kids?" She looked at him for a moment before sucking out the last of her ice cream. 

"Supposed it just never happened. I mean, I don't mind kids and all." Michael chewed on his tiny wad of gum he had accumulated while eating. 

Sadie stuck out her bottom lip and nodded. "Well maybe if you found the right one then you could have kids." 

Michael audibly snorted. "That's not anything you need to worry about honey. Besides, I've got my hands full enough with you right now." 

"Yeah I guess…" she trailed off, "Hey Uncle Mike?" She asked again. 

"Yeah sugar pie?" Michael replied more cautiously this time. 

"I was wondering… w… um," She darted her glance at him before reconfiguring herself, "I know I'm not supposed to ask but… because it's rude? But why do… you have a wheelchair?" 

Michael thought for a moment. "Well er, because I don't have legs. See?" He lifted his striped linen pants and knocked on his right prosthetic.

"Are they really wooden?" She patted his calf quizattically. 

"Well, some of it is. Most of it is polypropylene, or a fancy word for plastic. And some of it is metal." 

"If you have fake legs then why do you use a wheelchair?" She tilted her head. 

"Well, because I get tired. Fake legs are heavy. Sometimes they hurt. So I need a break." Michael shrugged and ate the tip of his waffle cone. 

"What happened?" Sadie wiped melted ice cream on her jeans. The question was such an innocent one, unscathing and without pity. Michael appreciated it because questions like that were few and far in between, so it was refreshing when it did happen. But regardless he decided to change the subject. 

"You don't want to know that. It's really boring. Now, go play on your bike. I expect you to come home on time and not stinking to high heavens." 

"Okay. Thanks for the ice cream Uncle Mike!" She sat up, more than willing to leave the question alone so long as she got to escape a long boring story. 

"Try not to hurt yourself okay?" He rolled up off the curb carefully before adjusting his back. 

Sadie gave him a quick awkward hug before hopping on her bike and riding off. 

By the time he checked his watch it was about eleven and he decided to start planning on what to do about his lunch. He knew he might get a light scolding for spending a fair amount of money without talking it through, but he couldn't help but want to spoil the brat. 

And he knew all he had to do was sweet talk his partner a bit and remind Ye jun he would have buckled even faster than Michael.


	6. Chapter 6

Finally after Uncle Mike let her go, Sadie wanted to test out her new bike. She thought about maybe talking him into buying her black paint so she could put ladybug spots on it or something so it looked more girly to the naked eye. 

She used her bike to hop over a jutting curb, something she had learned to do early on in the game, and went to meet up with the Meethooks. 

It was a little past noon, and Sadie was supposed to meet up with her troop about an hour ago. There was a bit of gray overcasting, worse than it was even a few minutes ago. Sadie worried that they would have to call the meeting off early. As she hit the breaks she called out the password to the roof. "Luxembourg!" 

"You're late!" Max threw a knotted rope down for her. "And tomorrow's password is calzone so don't forget it." 

Sadie climbed up the rope and sat down on the roof with her new troop. Katelyn was busy braiding her fluffy red hair. "Oh cool you made it!" 

It was Sadie's first formal meeting with the Meethooks and she was more than excited. Max nodded at her. "First order of meeting, Sadie, sweet bike." 

"Thanks." She did a little curtsy in response. 

"Second order. Chum. Jake you got the bucket?"

"Not for another two days. My dad's not prepping for a trip just yet." Jake shrugged, pausing on eating his baloney sandwich. 

"Well when you can skim take the opportunity. We've got enough ammo to last us a little bit, but the second we don't we're screwed." 

"Yes officer. Right away sarge." Jake saluted her mockingly. 

Max snorted and playfully slapped his shoulder. "Shut up Jake. Third order, Katelyn: have you talked your dad into getting a hammer yet? We need to put some nails into the smokehouse so the Edenvilles don't get in again. 

"No such luck. He won't let me anywhere near his tools, not since I tried to make a trap door in my room." Katelyn shook her head. 

"Okay so we're double screwed then. Let's check the change," Max pulled out an aluminium lunch box and jangled it. When she opened it she counted quietly for a bit, "two dollars and sixty three cents. Sadie you got any money on you?" 

"Only enough for the payphone. Plus I'm only getting a quarter for allowance now…" Sadie thought quietly for a moment, before she got a mischievous idea, "but I know where I can get a hammer. My uncles have a tool shed. I don't think there's a lock on it or anything." 

Katelyn nibbled on a fingernail. "Isn't that stealing?" 

Sadie scratched the back of her head. "I mean… it's a hammer though. And I would ask for it but Uncle Mike just bought me this bike. I don't wanna push my luck. I'll put it back when we're done using it. We can get it done today right?" 

"Yeah, but our supplies will be inaccessible until we get ourselves our own hammer. We better store some stink bombs in the change box and close up the rest of our arsonal. Lock up anything we're afraid of getting snatched." Max frowned in thought. 

"Okay, well maybe tomorrow or the day after I can ask my uncles if I can borrow the hammer afterwards. So i don't have to lift it every day." 

"Okay as long as it doesn't get you grounded." Katelyn nodded thoughtfully. 

"Cool I'll go get it." Sadie sat up with urgency. 

"Nah dude, we'll go with you." Max grinned, zipping up her letterman.

"I'm the only one who brought a bike today, It'll be real quick." Sadie waved her hands nervously. She didn't want them to follow her to her house. She didn't want them to see where she lived and change their minds. 

"And what happens when the Edenvilles get the drop on you? They all have bikes. You need protection." 

Sadie let out a big sigh. "Okay fine." 

The four of them slid down the rope one at a time, hopping to the leafy ground below. Max did her best to hide their belongings in a bush besides the smokehouse and Jake threw the rope back up. 

Sadie trailed her bike by her side as the others followed her en route to her home. Max and Jake playfully shoved each other as Katelyn showed off her new mood ring she got in the toy dispenser outside the burger joint. Sadie logged away the fact that Katelyn liked weird stuff like mood rings in case she got one herself. 

But at the moment she was more worried about how her new friends would react to her living in the green house. Honestly the whole thing felt stupid. 

Once they got to Elm street, Sadie considered ditching them, but couldn't figure out an inconspicuous way to do it. Would she never have sleepovers because of where she lived? Would all of her new friends think she was weird? She honestly didn't know. 

But as they bent around the fence of the green house, and Sadie started trudging down the dirt driveway leading into her uncle's property, her friend's laughter and horsing around stopped dead in its tracks. 

"Wait Sadie you can't go in there!" Katelyn protective grasped at Sadie's shoulder. 

"Well...um. This is my place." She looked over her shoulder at her troop sheepishly.

"But...it's the green house. Nobody's allowed near the green house." Katelyn backed up a bit. 

Sadie frowned. "It'll only take a second. The tool shed is in the back." 

Katelyn hummed nervously. Jake walked a few steps away and gently kicked at the ground. Even Max looked quiet and apprehensive for a change. 

Sadie rolled her eyes and growled. "I'll be right back." 

She propped her bike on the fence post close to the gate and carefully went around the perimeter of the house. She didn't want Uncle Mike to see her creeping out the window, and getting past the chickens without making them freak out was a hard enough task already. She just had to be about ten feet from the chicken wire, and do her best not to make any eye contact, or else they'd assume they were getting fed again. 

Her heart began to pound in her chest as one of the chickens, Amelia Egghart started building up a cluck, body expanding as though she was going to explode. Sadie stood still until the buildup simmered and Amelia Egghart went back to her scheduled scratching at the ground. 

Sadie was particularly good at sneaking, as her father had scolded her multiple times about getting up in the middle of the night for snacks, or for annoying the downstairs neighbors. And her uncle's property made way less noises than her old apartment complex did. 

Once she finally got to the back of the house, she slipped into the toolshed. She had never been inside it, but she reminded herself about Uncle Jun's warnings of sharp objects. 

Grabbing the chain to turn on the light, she let her eyes adjust to the objects in the shed. Uncle Jun was right about there being sharp edges. There were bits of broken ceramic plates and beer bottles on the floor, in fact there was a whole set of plates stacked up in a box in the corner. Why were they in the shed? Shouldn't they have been inside? 

There were hand saws and mason jars full of screws and nails, a welding gun, and various pieces of scrap metal to parts that Sadie couldn't name. Uncle Mike had told her that Uncle Jun was like an auto mechanic, but for farm equipment in the county. She didn't know a lot about car stuff, or farm stuff for that matter so she wasn't surprised that she didn't recognize most of the things in the room. 

Another thing that stood out to her besides the box of plates was the stack of old newspapers next to them. What was with old people and stacks of newspapers? 

She looked around the shelf, barely being tall enough to comfortably reach around the work bench until she found a hammer. She took a deep breath and put it into her belt loop before turning off the light and placing the door back exactly the way it was and slipping out again. 

Once she finally got back to the gate entrance of the house, her whole body was vibrating. She cautioned her friends to be quiet as they snuck away from the house. Once they walked past the street sign they burst into sound. Hollering and laughing and carrying on. 

"That was literally the bravest thing I've ever seen!" Katelyn gushed and wrapped her arms around Sadie's neck. 

"Sadie why didn't you tell us you were a total badass?" Max chuffled. 

"You should already know that by now." Sadie stuck her tongue out at her, gliding past the group on her bike. 

"It's crazy that you live in the green house. Especially since… well...you know." Jake bobbed his head a bit, his dark brows jutting suggestively. 

Sadie slowed down a bit and dismounted her bike. "No. I don't know. What are you guys even talking about?" 

Jake shoved his hands in his pockets anxiously. "Yeah you just moved here right? You really don't know do you?" 

"Tyson said some dumb stuff, but I'm telling you my uncle's legs are polyurothane, its a fancy word for plastic. Not. Peglegs." 

A dark look crossed over Max's face as she opened her mouth. "But do you know how he lost his legs," she paused for a moment, "ten years ago there was a little boy named Gus Thorton. He lived across the street from the Green House. These two weird dudes lived there, and they never talked to their neighbors. And they hated kids so much you could see the whites of their eyes turn red." 

Sadie winced at her, but before she could retort, Katelyn butted in. "It's true, my cousin Ricky said they used to sit on the porch and watch them play!" 

"One day, Gus Thorton was playing outside on that very street and he accidentally threw a baseball through their second story window. His friend dared him to go get it. They waited for the old guy's truck to leave the driveway and Gus went up the side of the house to go get it. And he never came back." 

The troop came to a slow halt and went dead silent as Max went on with her story. Sadie's breath hitched in her throat. 

"The cops couldn't figure out what happened to him until one day they checked out the pig farm after someone called them saying something weird happened. When they went down there to check it out, all they found was a single tooth. That's all that was left of Gus. The cops could never pin it on the guys in the green house, I believe that one of the guys chopped him up and fed him to the pigs. But because he was stained with Gus' blood, the pigs didn't stop. And. They. Ate. His. Legs. Off." 

"Now that is the stupidest thing I've ever fucking heard!" Sadie broke the heavy silence, startling the troop. 

"She said the fuck word." Katelyn whispered harshly, covering her mouth. 

"Oh yeah? Well it did happen! If you ever met a pig you'd know it's true! And they never found Gus so explain that!" Jake frowned. 

"You're making this all up. Quit it you guys. My uncles are a little old and lame but they'd never do something like that." Sadie snapped back at him. 

Max leaned against a fence post. "Yeah? Well you ever notice how they don't talk to anyone outside? And how no kid in this entire town is allowed near them? We're not making it up. Hell, Katelyn's dad told her to stay away from them." 

"It's true. He told me they're weirdos… can we change the subject now? It's giving me the creeps." Katelyn muttered under her breath. 

"Fine! You guys go ahead and ditch me too! Go ahead! I'll just ride my bike around by myself since nobody wants to talk to me! Because of my… my stupid uncles!" She glared at them as her face and throat began to burn. Tears started welling up and before she knew it she was crying right in front of her new friends. She had no idea why she was so angry all the sudden. 

"Woah man," Max reached out to touch Sadie's shoulder, "nobody said we were gonna ditch you." 

"I didn't mean to make her cry." Jake grumbled. Katelyn rapped his shoulder, forcing a half-hearted apology out of him. 

Sadie wiped up her tears to keep from blubbering, which would make her look really uncool. 

"Hey, you're in our club now. Meathooks are for life okay?" Max patted her back and smiled gently. 

"Yeah. I mean, maybe instead of going to your house, you can come over to my house sometimes. Ooh! I could make us all friendship bracelets!" 

"I think I'll pass." Max snorted and shook her head. 

"Fine just between us Aries okay?" Katelyn gave Sadie a hug, her cherry earrings snagging onto Sadie's baby bairs for only a short instant. 

"Yeah. I'd like a friendship bracelet." Sadie sniffled and hugged her back. 

"I won't bring it up again. Just stop crying okay?" Jake patted her shoulder. 

Sadie followed her troop all the way to the smoke house and Max put their stash away inside safely. They added boards to the entrance and handed the hammer back to her. As they sat on the roof, Jake shared half of his cheese stick with Sadie and apologized for real that time. 

Sadie felt the first drops of rain tap the top of her head before deciding to call it an evening, which the others decided was a good idea anyways. 

Her bike got her home fast enough that she didn't get too wet. If she had walked she might have been soaked to the bone. 

Sadie hated the idea that none of her friends were allowed at her house the whole time she'd be there. And what more, she hated the idea that maybe they were right. Uncle Mike changed the subject when she asked about his legs. And they didn't really talk to a lot of people as far as she had seen. 

As much as Sadie didn't like to admit, it started to feel an awful lot like they were hiding something.


	7. Chapter 7

The day after Sadie carefully placed the hammer back, things seemed to fall perfectly aligned. No one suspected that Sadie had even taken it in the first place. It wasn't like her normally to lie unnecessarily, but later when she asked Uncle Mike to borrow the hammer again he agreed provided she was careful not to hurt herself. 

Her uncles ran her through the list of responsibilities and emergency plans while they were gone. Apparently every Friday they would go out for the evening, but even then it was only for a few hours. Uncle Mike assured her several times that there was soup that could be reheated if she got hungry. Like she would starve in a few hours. 

"Don't forget we have the restaurant's number on the fridge if you need to get a hold of us." Uncle Mike waggled a limp wrist at her while fixing his shirt cuffs. 

They both were wearing what were probably the ugliest clothes Sadie had ever seen. They wore long sleeve button ups, like her dad. And slacks like her dad would wear. But their shirt collars were humorously large. Waistlines were too high up. Sporting patterns that looked like if a cat fell downstairs, got a concussion and then vomited onto an ugly rug. 

Surely their outfits were an act against the fashion gods. But what did they ever do to deserve that degree of horrible taste? 

Sadie kept her mouth shut and and nodded as though her eyes weren't watering from clothes created to look like a dad-clown fusion. She deviously feigned a sneeze to avoid questioning about it. 

"Okay, okay. Enough. We go now." Uncle Jun grumbled, practically shoving him into the hallway. 

Uncle Mike fretted for a little while longer. but eventually took a deep breath and patted her head before they both headed out the door. 

"Okay bye guys have fun!" She waved as they closed the door behind them. She went into the living room to watch their truck drive away. Once they were gone the coast was clear. 

Those two were hiding something. She felt it in her gut. She had to know why every kid in town was afraid to go near the green house. And why she felt like every time she was around the two men that they were gasping for straws to avoid questions. 

She started in the living room. The wallpapers were old and cracked, but had pretty floral designs all the way up to the wood mouldings. All of the furniture was well broken in and none of it seemed to match. Mostly made of heavy dark woods and there was an extreme lack of doilies, unlike her parent's house. Most of the table ends had water rings etched into them. 

She flipped through a few pages from the books left on the bookshelf. Most of the books looked super boring and long winded, just like Uncle Mike. She went through some drawers, which mainly held boxes of cigarettes, nail clippers and magazines of the sort. So far, nothing interesting.

She quickly poked her head into the kitchen and looked around at the yellow-painted cupboards. Oscar rose his head from his wicker bed in the corner near the pantry and stood up in a long arching stretch. He nibbled at her pant leg, and excitedly panted until Sadie patted his ribs. 

"Hey boy, you wanna help me investigate?" She chuckled and left the room, with Oscar following close behind. 

Her heart began to pump loudly. She honestly didn't know what she was looking for. Something incriminating? Something to clear their name? Maybe something to blow that stupid rumor out of the water. As she checked the narrow bathroom, and the dusty supply closet and the colorless washroom down the hall, memorizing which floorboard squeaked the loudest, she wondered about that little boy who was allegedly fed to pigs. 

Sadie's hands grazed against the edges of the doorways, which had large score marks and missing paint chips all starting around the same height. She wondered what could have made these? The thought of it being a child's fingernails clawing marks while grasping onto the door frame before getting dragged off made her shudder. 

Could her uncles really do something like that? 

Before her father handed her the plane tickets to send her off to what she assumed was her certain doom, she had only heard about her uncles maybe once or twice. Surely they were important enough to her mom to have kept in touch, but she couldn't recall having ever met them in person before. The only times she ever spoke with them was for occasional call on her birthday. and even that was usually sandwiched between calls from her grandparents, and her aunt on her dad's side. 

And every time mom brought them up, her dad would roll his eyes and complain about how her uncles should 'just give it a rest.' She had no idea what he meant by it. 

What she did know was that Uncle Mike would laugh a certain way before changing a subject that he didn't like. And that Uncle Jun would look at her from down the hall as though he wanted her to disappear. 

Sadie made her way up the old scuffed stairs, allowing Oscar to bolt in front of her, and checked for anything odd in the bathroom. But she knew that she wouldn't find anything weird. The upstairs bathroom was slightly larger than the one downstairs, and it was a sort of faded blue color with one of those bathtubs that wasn't attached to the wall. The kind with legs. She tried to wiggle some of the tiles to see if they would come loose, just in case there was a nook or cranny she could fit something under, were she holding a deadly secret. 

Standing out in the upstairs hallway, she fiddled with her pink sweater nervously. Uncle Mike explicitly stated that the bedroom was off limits, and she was uncertain when they'd be coming home. All the same, she took a deep breath and opened the door. 

The inside of their bedroom was filled with old wooden furniture, and drab tartan curtains. Half of the walls were wooden, just like the guest room, but most every inch had a picture framed, or a polaroid photo thumbtacked, or an ornament covering the wallpaper. 

On the footside of the bed, near the side window there was an artist table, (or whatever they were called) propping up a giant sketchbook. She picked up the sketchbook and sat on the floor rug, crossing her legs as Oscar hopped onto the bed and rolled around like he was showing off that fact that he was on the furniture despite Uncle Jun's explicit 'no dogs on the furniture' policy. 

Tentatively she flipped through a few pages with a small curiosity beside herself. The pages had dark charcoal smears that looked like a bunch of squares and triangles stacked on top of each other. It looked like something a little kid would do. Her curiosity was quashed immediately as she realized that some of those shapes were actually naked people.

Sadie closed the sketchbook immediately and put it back where it belonged, very much wanting to wash her eyeballs clean. 

She looked in their closet, opening a wafting smell of cigarettes from their old clothes. There were boots and boxes filled with old files and papers. She flicked her finger through the files, holding old bills and medical papers and all sorts of boring things. Maybe they really were just boring old men. 

Oscar's ears pricked up with interest. He stomped onto the nightstand, moving the curtains and knocking a lamp onto the floor, barking loudly at a passersby. The lamp rolled under the bed and Sadie went after it in a panic. She hoped that Oscar didn't break it. She wasn't supposed to be in this room. 

Poking her head under the bed covers she reached out and grasped the lamp by the neck when something caught her eye. It was a tiny brow shoebox with a withered lid. After placing the lamp back where it belonged, she knelt back down and pulled the little box out. 

Inside the box she found old ripped envelopes with coffee-ringed letters folded inside and tons of photos. In some of the pictures Mike still had some of his hair, rather than that scraggly ponytail Sadie would fantasize cutting off. There were pictures of them at fairs, and in front of tourist attractions in different states. There were colorful postcards and stamps from all over the country. No sign of Gus Thorton anywhere. 

She pulled out a few more photos, some of them were even older. There was an old photo of a boy with curly chestnut hair holding a soccer ball, the corners were folded so many times they were delicate enough to fall off if she touched them. There were old sepia photos of a baby wearing funny hats and family photos. 

Each time Sadie pulled out one photo, she would put it back in the same direction and spot it was laying in, just in case her uncles had them filed in some order or another. That was until her eyes landed on something that punched wind out of her chest. 

She held a photo in her hand that showed her mom's face. She had seen older pictures of her mom when she was younger, and honestly she hadn't changed all that much except for the fact that she had gotten a little fatter. 

But there her mother was, younger, thinner, smiling, her hair braided and laced up and decorated with flowers. Wearing a long white wedding dress and dancing. Hands holding hands. Belonging not to her dad, but her uncle Jun, black tuxedo, well groomed hair and all. His face suggested he didn't know a photo was being taken, or maybe he was distracted, because he wasn't smiling. 

Sadie looked at that photo until it had begun to lose its meaning. Was this her parent's wedding? Was Uncle Jun just there for the picture? That didn't even make any sense? 

Why would mom be married to another man? When was mom married to another man? 

She looked at the back of the photo, as her mom often labeled her photos by date. No date. Nothing written. 

Sadie pulled out more photos, the pit in her gut gaping wider and wider the longer she looked. Some of the envelopes were written from her parent's address, but she couldn't read the letters because they were in Korean. 

There were maybe fifty or sixty pictures in total, and as she flipped through, she started to notice that most of them were of her uncles, and she started to worry that there wouldn't be anything else in the shoebox that she could piece together the reason why the wedding photo existed. 

As she held a photo of her uncle Jun in her hand, she stopped to look at it. He was alone in the picture, wearing a red checkered shirt, leaned up against a wall and smiling. At first she mistakened the photo for her mom, because she had never seen a man with such long hair before. Uncle jun was younger in the picture, but his hair went all the way down past his shoulders. It was kind of funny, but it was familiar somehow. 

Somehow in the curve of his nose, between the parting of his lips when he smiled, down the length of straight black hair that cupped his face and the wisps of baby hairs that laid at his temples, Sadie knew where she had seen it before. 

In fact she had seen it every day in the mirror when she brushed her hair. 

Sadie put the photos back into their box and pushed it under the bed. She propped herself up on the bed as her legs wobbled beneath her. She whistled for Oscar to follow her into the hallway and closed the door behind her. 

As she went downstairs she couldn't shake the heavy feeling in her stomach. Even as she reheated the tomato soup on the stovetop she couldn't stop thinking about the picture of her mother. Or of Uncle Jun. About how she felt like she couldn't scoop her guts off the floor and tuck them back in. 

Sadie understood why he couldn't look her in the eye.


	8. Chapter 8

After their date, Ye jun lifted his giggling and slightly tipsy lover over the threshold, only to immediately regret the strain on his back. After putting Mike back down on his prosthetics, he resorted to kissing him on the cheek instead. 

Every Friday night they promised each other to free up their schedules and have a night out. They went out to a nice restaurant in their silly clothes. Every once in a while Michael would treat himself to a beer or a glass or white wine or two. 

Honestly, having time to talk to each other and get on the same page was a good succession to their couple's counselor's advice on building active listening skills. Plus Ye jun got a meal and the attention that he desperately needed out of it. 

He and Michael came home to a seemingly empty house. Upon light inspection it appeared that Sadie had put herself to bed, which made sense because it was almost two in the morning.

They had lost track of time with their discussion of Mike spending a good bit of money for Sadie on a whim, but as Michael probably counted on, Ye jun agreed that the child needed some freedom away from relying on the two of them to drop her off everywhere. Ye jun was a tad worried about the fact that she got the bike after displaying abhorrent behavior, but Michael finally convinced him that there was no need to fret. 

After taking off their clothes and slipping into some fresh underwear, they spent the night snuggled up together.

The next morning they started their morning chores and after Mike gathered some eggs, Ye jun began making breakfast, quietly humming to himself and tightening the band of his bathrobe. Ye jun usually had the weekends off and he was quite content with Saturday being his no-pants day. 

"Where the hell is Sadie? She should be up by now." Mike tutted before rolling into the hallway to shout up the stairs. 

"Dunno but if she don't hurry I'm feeding the leftovers to the chickens." Ye jun grumbled, knowing that Mike giving her a bike on demand was bound to blow up in his face. No good ever came of spoiling a child like that. Especially a child that already had an attitude problem. 

"God dammit we talked about this." Mike scowled and parked by the kitchen table. He winced as he rubbed the swollen tendons in his wrists. 

"Hm. Did you now?" Ye jun yanked his oven mitt off and gave Mike a petty sideways glance. 

"Well if you don't like the way I'm doing things then you give it a try." Mike snapped at him. 

Ye jun dropped his gaze before leaving the kitchen. "Just… keep the eyes on the skillet." 

"I'm sorry-" Mike started up, But Ye jun ignored him and started making his way upstairs. He didn't want to admit that Mike was right about taking the hardass role. Mike was always right about everything. 

He went down the hallway and knocked on her door gently. "It's breakfast. Come downstairs." 

After there was no answer, Ye jun opened the door to find that Sadie was still laying in bed, the covers encasing her little body. Ye jun frowned. "We're being patient. Wake up. Time for food." 

Sadie grumbled something under the covers and peeked out of a crevice before tucking herself back in. "Today is canceled I wanna sleep." 

"I not ask you. Come eat." Ye jun exhaled loudly enough for her to know that it was too early in the day to be this far down the end of his rope. 

Sadie groaned for a little longer before finally throwing the blanket to the floor. "Ugh if you're just gonna stand in the doorway then fine." 

She brushed past Ye jun and stumbled down the stairs in her pajamas. Ye jun tamped down his agitation and followed after. 

Michael was on his legs at that point, standing over the omelettes and folding them into neat little squares before sliding them onto plates. "Well howdy there tardy-pants. Sleep well?" 

Although Michael was doing his best to barrel through with a cheery demeanor, Ye jun could tell he was angry. Something about the tightness around his lips always gave it away. 

"Not really." Sadie mumbled and sat down at the table. 

"Kinda burnt this one a little, sorry," Mike put the plate in front of Ye jun's spot at the table, which for an instant made Ye jun worry if Michael burnt it on purpose to be petty before calming down and remembering that he did leave the skillet alone before Mike took over, "Sadie, you remember that conversation we had about doing chores around the house?" 

Sadie nodded a bit but looked as though she was only half listening. 

Michael put Sadie's plate in front of her and patted Ye jun's shoulder in passing. "Look, I know that things are different than you're used to, and maybe you do things differently at home. It's an adjustment for all of us. But I do want you to keep your promises and do what's expected of you. I don't want to have to ask you again, understood?" 

Sadie frowned a bit, but didn't bother looking up from her plate. Ye jun busied himself with eating his meal so he didn't have to give any input. 

"I asked you if you understand young lady." Michael crossed his arms and huffed. 

"I'm sorry." Her voice came out sad and meek. Which wasn't like her as far as Ye jun knew. It made him tense up a bit.

Michael finally gave up and sat down in his wheelchair with his food. "I forgive you, but we're gonna have to work on that." They began eating quietly. Or at least, Ye jun and Mike were eating. Sadie sat there quietly staring at her plate. 

By the time Ye jun had finished his omelette and moved onto his hash browns, Sadie still had said nothing. Ye jun patted Michael's lap from under the table and gestured to her. 

Mike scanned her for a moment before speaking. "I'm not mad at you sugarpie. It's water under the bridge." 

"It's not that." She murmured. 

"Well you're bein' a proper sourpuss so mind telling us what's eating ya?" He nudged her shoulder. 

"Uncle Jun can I ask you a question?" Sadie looked up from her omelette. 

Ye jun grunted in response. 

Sadie retreated into her shoulders a bit. "Are… are you my dad? I'm not mad or anything, but I just want to know." 

Before Ye jun's body had a chance to shut down on him entirely, Michael sucked in a wad of hash browns, and began violently sputtering and coughing it up. Ye jun patted him on the back until he was sure Mike wasn't going to die. 

"What-" Michael spoke through a strained breath "-makes you ask dear." He coughed a bit more before he finally got his breathing back to normal. Ye jun was uncertain if he had been breathing at all. He felt as though he had been struck in the sternum with a pipe wrench and any air that would come through his throat would only be a harsh whisper if he could muster it at all. 

Sadie gestured with her hands. "Oh come on you guys. I mean, We both dunk our cornbread in our mashed potatoes-" 

"Now that doesn't mean anything." Mike interjected. 

"-We look exactly the same," Sadie continued, 

Mike started up, determined to get a hold of the situation. "Wait a minute that doesn't necessarily mean-" 

"-Hell we even sneeze the same! And I know you guys have been lying to me I'm not stupid!" Sadie cut him off. 

"We haven't been lying to you dear. Ye jun I think we need to call her mother." Michael put a hand on his shoulder and jostled it a bit. Michael was desperate to climb out of the sinkhole that they had fallen into, but Ye jun was already drowning in the swill of it. 

Sadie put her hands on the table. "No! Please don't call my mom. I'm not even mad I just want to know the truth. I won't get mad I swear. You don't have to lie to me though, I can handle it." 

Ye jun licked his dry lips and cleared his throat. "Enough. You stay right there." 

He stood up shakily and left the kitchen. Michael quickly followed him into the living room. "We need to call her mom. This is serious Ye jun." He whispered harshly. 

"I know. I know." Ye jun crossed his arms and pressed them into his chest, trying to get some weight on them so he could feel the air in his lungs. 

"Hey, Hey. You need to breathe okay?" Michael's voice grew gentler as he reached out a reassuring hand. 

Before he knew it, Ye jun had started hyperventilating. Michael stroked his hip calmly, and cooed soft nothings at him. 

It only lasted a few moments before Ye jun could finally take in large gulps of air. it was mild compared to what Ye jun was used to. He took a couple more deep breaths. "I just wanted to make this work." 

"I know Junebug." 

"We gotta tell her." Ye jun rubbed at his moustache. 

Mike's eyes drifted to the floor for a moment before blinking and nodding. "Okay. If that's what you gotta do. I'm just worried about her folks." 

"We...we can tell them later." Ye jun dismissed the uncertainty of the near future and stroked Mike's shoulder before going upstairs to get their box. 

He bent down to get under his bed and grabbed their little shoebox before going back down the stairs and returning to the kitchen. Mike was already back in the kitchen twiddling his thumbs nervously awaiting his partner as Sadie finally began picking at her omelette Sadie looked up with a little flash of worry before clearing her throat. "What's that?" 

"You'll see." Ye jun scooted his chair so that Sadie was sitting between the two of them. He put the box down on the table and flipped through the thick stacks of photos until he found the ones he was looking for. 

He handed her a photo. "That's your mom and me… We used to be married. Long, long time ago." 

Sadie looked at it for a moment, but looked up as though she was waiting for more explanation. He handed her another picture. One of him and Mike sitting on the porch. He pointed at the toddler sitting in Michael's lap. "Now who's that?" 

"That's me I guess. When I was a baby." She pointed at another picture, an older black and white photo of a toddler dressed in a ceremonial costume. "Is that me too?" 

"No, that's me. When I was one." He handed her the photo.

"Haha, you look like you're wearing a dress." she giggled. Michael stifled a chuckle himself. 

"Not dress. Hanbok. I was the first baby boy on my eomma's side in a long time. It was a big deal, so eomma wanted picture." 

"So you are my dad." She looked up at him, scanning every inch of his face as though it was the first time she was seeing it. Or perhaps she was trying to memorize it; immortalize the very next thing he was going to say. 

"Ah, uh. Yes." Ye jun fumbled over the answer like a fool immortalized. 

Sadie pursed her lips. "You could have just told me." 

Mike finally spoke up. "Ah, sweetie, it wasn't really our place to tell you. But we didn't lie about anything. We, and-and your folks. We agreed that it was best for you."

"So then everyone lied to me and...my dad… he's not really… my dad."

"No, Dan is your dad. He's been there with your mom this whole time. That doesn't need to change. In fact, nothing needs to change, do you understand me?" Mike waggled a finger at her. 

Sadie nodded a little. "But then if you're my dad or...whatever. Then I'm not half Korean. And you," she looked back up at Ye jun, "My mom and dad are married so… you guys… got divorced?"

Ye jun resorted to nodding instead of opening his mouth again. 

"Why didn't you guys stay together?" 

"It just didn't work out that way sugarpie. Your mom and your...father...they divorced before your mom had you, and when you were born, Ye jun and I were already… you know, living together. It just happened that way. It's complicated." Michael pet her back and frowned in thought. 

"It's hard to explain." Ye jun mumbled. 

"Well… I wanna know everything. About my mom. And the divorce. And you guys. If it's okay, I mean." 

Michael's eyes twinkled with mischief. Lips pulled into a nostalgic smile. "Now that is a long story."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW homophobic slurs 
> 
> * The de Havilland Canada DHC-4 Caribou (designated by the United States military as the CV-2 and later C-7 Caribou) is a Canadian-designed and produced specialized cargo aircraft with short takeoff and landing (STOL) capability. The Caribou was first flown in 1958 and although mainly retired from military operations, is still in use in small numbers as a rugged "bush" aircraft.
> 
> * The 7.62×54mmR is a rimmed rifle cartridge developed by the Russian Empire and introduced as a service cartridge in 1891. Originally designed for the bolt-action Mosin–Nagant rifle, it was used during the late tsarist era and throughout the Soviet period to the present day.

June 16th 1970, 

Michael never thought he'd amount to much. 

The thought didn't cross his mind before he looked through his mail while eating French toast at a diner in Wisconsin. He had been camping out in a gully by the gas station for a couple of weeks. He wasn't sure what he was even doing in Wisconsin in the first place. Must have been important. 

But at some point while lying on the mattress in his '60 Ford Econoline he found himself thinking about the times before Wisconsin. He wasn't even sure if they ever existed at all. But if they did then that meant that he left those times in a bad way. 

He was compelled to reach out to an old friend. He wasn't expecting any kind of response when he opened a PO box, but when he flipped through his mail he wasn't expecting to be holding a draft card ordering him to report to the Air Force base in Lackland, Texas in his hands either. 

The man who took his physical examination also didn't think much of him. Redacted from his oral account; although he marked in his box that he indeed had homosexual encounters in the past, the examiner was more than fed up with the draft dogers that came before Michael claiming the same thing. Apparently it was a popular theme.

Besides that, Michael was skinny, but not enough to exempt him, and his eyesight was bad, but not bad enough to get him out of the hole he was in. 

He had two options, one was to do time in prison, or to take a Greyhound to Lackland like the draft paper said. There was a third option that Michael opted out of disclosing while relaying his story to Sadie, and that was to suck someone's cock loudly and publicly. But despite his core beliefs in pacifism and faggotry, even then Michael had standards. 

With his van impounded, he took the Grayhound as prompted, and with little to his name, he arrived to basic training on March 9th. The training, although less extreme than most other branches, was grueling. Particularly because Michael made it grueling. 

He was physically weak, usually second to last in their fifteen mile marches and the first to vomit doing sit-ups. He often would find himself struggling to adhere to the sleep schedule, even if he was the most exhausted man on earth. 

He didn't get along with his platoon much either. One of his squad members commented that he didn't like him because his 'smile was off.' Michael wished it was the first time he had been told that. He didn't mind being a loner, and not for some pompous grasp at individualism, but because he knew he had little to offer his peers. 

To top off his already pathetic performance, the stakes took mountainous inclines when he got combative. He had buckets of freezing water dumped on him when he was slow to rise from sleep, and his drill sergeant had a field day underlining the fact that Michael would live, breathe and die amounting to a humble 'not much'. As he laid there gasping for air on the pavement after failing to complete his laps, Drill Sgt. placed a boot over his windpipe to take away his breathing privileges. 

Finally after blatantly refusing to perform marksmanship tasks, he was pulled into the office and threatened to be discharged or even imprisoned for insubordination. At that point Michael would have accepted prison. But prison wasn't offered, in fact Sgt. Taylor threatened to make him take basic again until he 'got it right'. 

After a lot of back and forth about his disponceny in participating in a violent and impermissible war, it was decided that if he completed his basic training, he wouldn't be forced to take it over again. Taylor offered him a spot in cargo shipment, probably the worst job to have, second to on-ground fuel transporter, and third to heated rat cage tester, provided he never had to see Michael's fucking face again. 

Michael finished the marksmanship test without hesitation afterwards and graduated from what was probably the least fun camp activity he'd ever experience in his life. 

After a seventeen hour long flight, he aborded a C7 Caribou* and was sandwiched between crates of supplies that weighed four times more than him, and thirty four men that wanted nothing to do with what had caught wind as the most useless man to ever come out of Lackland. The plane finally touched down in Phu Cat on June 14th. 

After they refueled, and were given a day to unload and reload supplies. Their next destination was Da Nang which was on the north side of troop-controlled Vietnam, but hopefully he would only have to unload and reload again in a couple of places before he got to go home. Wax on wax off. 

It was a dull life, playing a shaky game of solitaire on his lap as the cargo ship rattled in light turbulence, but was probably the best he was going to do given his situation. It wasn't no Wisconsin, but there wasn't much in Wisconsin either.

After Michael was briskly handed a parachute bag by a shouting passerby, Michael didn't have time to think about how much he'd amount to. He didn't have time to think at all as 7.62x54R* rounds ate holes into the plane's flanks. 

The plane's engines roared ferociously as Michael put his bag on as he was taught, the gaping holes began to suck in hot air and smoke. He could barely see but he already knew in his bones that the plane was on its way down. 

Things began to grow fuzzy around the edges as he inhaled burning ozone. The rounds punched the side of the plane open and his body was pulled through like a handkerchief sucked into a leaf blower. Jettisoned clear out, and entirely at the mercy of turbulent wind speeds. 

Michael wouldn't have been able to recall exactly when he pulled his parachute, if he had followed procedure, or if anyone came down with him. All he could remember before hitting the treeline was the amount of smoke and burning debris spraying past his cheeks, and the smell of scraped metal and explosives. 

There was a landing, sort of. And it most likely wasn't graceful because Michael was staring at the forest floor in suspension. He couldn't tell where he was in space and his ribs and limbs ached. He looked up to see the canopy and every branch he hit on his way down. The smoke had blackened out any stars that may have been beyond that. Or maybe it was day time, he wasn't in any place to ask those questions. Maybe the blackness surrounding him wasn't night light at all, because he finally lost his fight to stay conscious. 

Maybe it was a few hours, or a few minutes, fuck if he'd know, but when he arose, his ribs, limbs and face ached. With pins and needles coming from every direction on his body, he was still hanging from the canopy, upside-down and his arm was tangled into the parachute lines behind him. It wasn't broken, but it also meant he couldn't reach his pocket knife in his pant leg. 

He felt something warm and wet dripping off the tip of his nose. He hoped it wasn't piss. In fact, his entire body felt wet. It took him a couple of seconds to realize that it was raining. Which explained the pins and needles, and possibly some of the ringing sound in his ears. 

Michael Rivett was born, and lived a shitty life, and now was going to die in a jungle hanging from a tree drenched in piss-warm rainwater. 

…

Scratch that, cold-as-fuck rainwater. 

By the time he had enough sense to start formulating a plan on how he was going to get down, he had a different problem to worry about. 

Because that moment, a figure stepped out the brush. 

Michael could barely see across the twenty foot clearing, but in the cool gray blobs of jungle foliage, stood a man, maybe about 5'5 in height. What more was that his features were distinctly Asian, despite being dressed in a US soldier uniform, and carrying a banged up rifle he couldn't identify from that far away. 

Michael's guts decided to try to slip out of mis mouth. Michael never thought he'd be outside of a base, let alone be put squarely on the doorstep of the Viet Cong. With his free hand, Michael waved frantically. "Don't shoot! Don't shoot! I'm unarmed!" 

The man approached him slowly, looking around his shoulder. He stood there for a moment before speaking. "You do this?" 

He pointed somewhere past the thickets, but there was nothing to see but trees. "Plane. You?" 

Michael paused. He was uncertain if he should answer. Then again he was a dead man anyways. He was sure that if the plane crashed then there wouldn't be much left to collect or ensnare. 

"Yes… I-I don't know anything though. I'm just a loader. Please. I don't have anything you want." Michael tried to hold himself in place despite slowly twisting away from the man that could very well end his life if he chose. 

The man squinted at him as though Michael had said something insane. "No! Army!" 

"No, I'm Air Force. I swear. 834th Division." Michael patted the patch on his arm. 

"Stupid, Army!" The man took dog tags off his neck and tossed them high enough for Michael to grab at the chain. Michael looked at him and back at the chain in his hands a few times. 

He squinted through the haze of heavy rain at the tags, and they read: 

AHN  
YE J.  
SSN  
B POSITIVE  
CATHOLIC


	10. Chapter 10

June 16th 1970, 

Michael watched his new GI friend scoot up the tree to get to the wrapped knots of lines. He held his field knife in his teeth as he shuffled his way onto proceedingly more precarious branches. 

Mike was a good seven or eight feet off the ground, so getting down was going to be interesting. 

The soldier, or Ahn as Michael supposed, selectively cut away at the lines, freeing his arm before tumbling a foot down the line and cutting off the blood supply of his left leg. He wheezed as the lines around his chest tightened, sending his ribs into a blinding pain. 

Ahn continued to cut away until Michael plopped a good four feet to the ground. Michael laid on the dirt floor gasping for hair. The tightening didn't let up despite his lines laying limply around his body. He was fairly sure he had broken a rib. Ahn tossed Michael's parachute to the ground before shuffling back down. 

Michael slowly stood up, pushing off of his lap and guarding his side as Ahn folded the parachute into a neat square. He hobbled after Ahn as he started walking back into the treeline quietly. 

The jungle was dim and gray with early morning mist, and storm clouds crackled overhead above the canopy. There were just trees in every direction, some of them surpassing thirty feet in height. Michael tried to calculate how far away he was from where they took off, but even knowing the speed, direction and how long he was boarded he couldn't account for the turbulence. There was no way they were that close to Chu Lai either way. 

Every few paces Ahn would look over his shoulder to make sure Michael was still following behind him, but said nothing. They continued their hike, despite the throbbing pains throughout Michael's body with every step he took for what seemed like hours. As the trees began to incline, the heavy rains brought about a familiar ozone and gunpowder odor. 

The jungle was alive with noise, but nothing sounded as foreign as Michael initially thought it might. Animal calls, tapping sheets of rainfall onto flat leaves, and the sound of mud sloshing with each step. Save for a single loud crunching noise beneath Michael's boot. He looked down into the puddle that his shoe print made into the deep mud to see some black unnatural object sticking out. He pulled it out and automatically recognized it as his glasses.

They were too crooked to even put them on the bridge of his nose, not to mention the rain fogging up the shattered lenses. He opted to put them in his pocket. 

"So um, Ahn right? Is it pronounced 'anne' or 'on'?" 

Ahn looked up at the treeline for a moment, not bothering to make any gesture that he was listening before grunting one word. "On." 

Michael batted the rain out of his eyes as he followed Ahn's footsteps, his boots were getting sucked into the mud every time he tried to step anywhere else. "Not much of a talker huh? Name's Rivett. Are we looking for the plane? Did… did they send you out here because of the crash." 

"No." Anh replied curtly. 

"No we're not looking for the plane? Or no they didn't send you out here?" Michael rolled his shoulder. 

"Yes to plane. No to sending." 

There was a bit of silence between them as Ahn helped him up a tree root in the way of the rush of mud and rainwater which had basically become a stream they were sifting through. When he got closer he noticed the patch on Ahn's arm. Blue 23 division patch. He was just a grunt. What was more interesting to Michael was the level of dishevelment he was in. Battered obviously. Alone apparently. Talking... was sparse to say the least. 

"So do we have to worry about Viet Cong out here?" 

"Not here. Not yet." Ahn finally got down after him off the root and right back into hip-deep muddy water. It was fucking cold. Ahn nudged past him and took the lead again. 

The silence was beginning to drive Michael insane. Mainly because the ringing in his ears were the main focus. He decided to press for conversation despite every breath being a dagger in his chest. 

"Sorry about earlier… About thinking you were, you know, the enemy. I think I hit my head coming down. So sorry about that. I just never met a Japanese guy before-" 

Anh whipped his head around so quickly that he was an inch in front of Michael's face. Michael could smell the sweat off his body and see the coals burning in his eyes. "NO! NO JAPANESE! KOREAN!" 

Ahn snorted loudly before continuing his pace much quicker than before. Michael was certain he had just witnessed his own death. He bet his own ass he wouldn't make that mistake again lightly. "Jeeze sorry pal." 

Michael began to shiver as the rain continued to pour. He was soaked to the bone and the light was continuing to drop. Finally they made it to some marshy ground. At least it was a step up from a hip-deep puddle. 

Ahn inspected the reeds for a bit before stepping ahead, gesturing Michael to follow. He narrowed his eyes. It wasn't a clearing, it was a gouge mark. Bits of the Caribou were sticking out of the mud. There were two bodies strewn in pieces over the skid mark, but the rest of the crew were nowhere to be seen. His knees weakened. 

Was he the only one who made it out alive? Were there more in the jungle? There had to be. There were almost forty men on that plane there was no way that Michael P. Rivett, a known screw up, could be the sole survivor. 

Ahn looked at him for a moment before pulling the tags off the two bodies and handing them to Michael nonchalantly. "These yours." 

Michael couldn't bring himself to look at the tags. If he put a name to the scorched faces laying somewhat beneath an inch of mud he was going to throw up. 

Ahn scrambled over to the largest piece of the plane and started looking around inside before he let out a guttural roar of anguish. He chucked a chunk of hull out into the mud and swore like he was trying to remember every curse word in the dictionary. 

What an angry little man. 

Ahn stormed back up to him. "You! Math! Do math! How much landing?" He pinched a finger. 

"How much land- I don't know dude! I was kinda busy not dying. I don't know the torque or wind speeds and I can only kinda guess the trajectory I'm not a rocket scientist or else I'd be behind a desk somewhere and not hauling freight," Michael snapped at him, "and I don't like to be yelled at!"

Ahn took his helmet off and ran his hands through his hair. His shoulders shuddered as he let out a raspy grip-losing laugh. before squatting down. Which was a terrible idea because that just meant he was teabagging mud. "Nothing. They took it. And-and just a cigarette pack… And it wet. That's it." 

The rain started coming in buckets. Thunder and lightning crashed over them. Michael shivered and rubbed his arms. "How...long have you been out here?" 

Ahn didn't answer. He simply ran his fingers over his face as though he was trying to wipe the rain and mud off him with more rain and mud. 

"Ahn. I know this is just bad news on top of bad news. But there were 34 of us. Minus me and um...what's left of these guys… that's 31. We can't leave them out here." 

"...You no see the smoke after, did you?" the tone of his voice implied that by 'after' he meant a good while after. Michael remembered the stars blotting out into a pitch black sky. 

"Oh." Michael's throat tightened. 

Ahn finally stood up and patted Michael's shoulder. "Come. We make camp before too dark to fucking see." 

He tailed after Ahn as they climbed to higher ground, until they came to a 45° slope to keep the sheets of rainwater from edging its way up. Ahn found some tree roots big enough to lie or at least slouch on, and they began cutting down thin branches and sapling for added support. 

It took maybe an hour or so to complete the task, but between the two of them it was easier then what Ahn was probably used to at this point. Ahn pulled the parachute out of his bag and unfolded it. he draped it over a sapling he shoved into the trunk so they had a little bit of space between them and the rain. 

Michael crawled in shakily and squeezed the water out of his t-shirt. Ahn, on the other hand, was stripping naked and throwing the wet clothes into a giant lump at the foot of the tent. It only took Michael a moment to get over his self- consciousness in favor of desperately wanting to no longer be wet or muddy. 

Michael inspected the bruising on his shoulder, and legs, and the rope mark on his calf, and the blisters on his feet. The bruise on his ribcage was coming in nicely as well, In fact his entire nipple seemed to stretch out with blood just under the skin. Gross. 

He was cold aching all over, but more than that he was tired. Maybe sleep would be the only escape from the pain he'd have for a long time and he'd welcome it.   
As he laid down on the knotted branches, his muscles began to shiver and wouldn't stop even after it started hurting his stomach. He couldn't feel his fingertips and his teeth wouldn't stop chattering until he clenched his jaw shut. 

As the night went on he got more and more miserable, tucking his hands and arms and legs further into himself until he was in a fetal position. His lips and feet were numb. He was scared and cold and a million miles from home. 

He was afraid if he fell asleep that he wouldn't wake back up. That was until he felt a cold clammy arm fold over his. And a cold clammy thigh tuck under his. He must have been keeping Ahn awake with all his chattering, and for a second he felt like he was an annoyance, but then the clammy feeling went away. And what Michael was left with was the radiating warmth of his new GI friend's chest pressed against his back. 

In that moment, Michael realized he wasn't the only one.


	11. Chapter 11

June 21st 1970, 

After being out in the rain for so long, one might think you'd get used to it. But the steady consistent downpour of rainfall on Michael's first night on ground had become something he'd fantasize about before he went to sleep at night. 

The rains came and went in roaving waves, like currents under the ocean. The endless sheets of gray clouds felt like looking at the surface to Michael, as the currents continually battered him around below. It was like drowning. 

By about the third night of stinging nettles over every inch of his body, fat droplets slithering down the back of his neck, and winds that slashed at the jelly of his eyes, Michael was already beginning to understand why Ahn was losing his mind. 

The fourth day of being trapped in the jungle they had found one remaining crate lodged deep in the mud. Mike expended a good bit of energy trying to pull the crate from the suction with a large stick before Ahn gestured him to stop and pry at the top instead. Which was only slightly easier. Inside were a couple of MREs, some water bottles, new helmets, and a box of matches. 

Ahn had cheered so enthusiastically that Michael was convinced he was going to take a whack at river stomping. 

There were five MREs in total. Whatever else that was inside of the crate was blown out it's ass end and deep into the mud below. The MREs only lasted them about four days, the water only three. They left the helmets behind. 

By the fifth day, Ahn showed Mike how he had been surviving on his own. Michael was a mediocre marksman by all means, but hunger was an aggressive motivator. Ahn taught him how to track the branch paths in the canopy when aiming for tree rats. It took him a while to get it right, but he finally shot one down. 

Standing over Ahn with his parachute as a cloak, Mike watched as Ahn began carving away at wet branches to make feather sticks dry enough to catch, they got a small fire going. Michael couldn't imagine doing this every night without a tarp. 

They ate their greasy rubbery rat meat in silence. Despite his disdain from the idea of killing and eating something so repulsive, he knew that from rationing his two and a half meals over the course of four days, that any rat that he didn't eat was putting him on the edge of starvation. Every calorie would count. Already he was beginning to miss the olive bags of sloppy joes and dense bread. 

For once in almost a week, Michael had warm food in his belly. And a warm fire to put his cold hands near. For lack of a better word it's what love felt like. 

Mike cleared his throat. He hadn't spoken since earlier that morning so he thought about giving it another swing. "So I assume that camp is northeast? That's where we're traveling right?" 

Ahn shook his head. "No northwest. Camp is northwest." 

"Well are you sure we're going the right way then? I already did the damned leaf compass thing." Mike let out an exasperated sigh. 

"We go long way. Bend around. Is not safe." Ahn picked at his meal in thought. 

"Why what's out that way?" Michael's brows furrowed. 

Ahn twiched anxiously at the sounds of the forest and scarfed his food down. 

"Shush." Ahn murmured, the muscles in his thighs bunching beneath his soaked pants. 

In a rush, Ahn began kicking dirt over the campfire and adding foliage over it before shoving Michael into the treeline. Michael wanted to cry. The warmth was gone and he felt like a small child accidentally letting go of his mother's skirt and getting lost in an unfamiliar place. 

Ahn crouched down quietly, prompting Mike to throw the parachute over the both of them and kicking up as much jungle litter over them as possible. 

Michael could hear the wet slapping of boots on flat mud. He and Ahn built their camp over some grass and leaves on the edge of the path so they wouldn't leave footprints. Now Mike could see why Ahn was being so meticulous. 

Michael's heart began to race from under the covers. He couldn't count how many footsteps there were under the sound of the drizzle hitting the parachute draped by his ear. All he knew was there were more than two. 

He could hear men talking in another language, chuckling about something. Overall whatever they were talking about, they weren't taking seriously. Perhaps it was routine for them. Or low stakes. Either way they didn't sound like they expected enemies nearby. 

He prayed to whatever god was out there that they would leave at some point but they didn't. In fact they started a fire, and got louder still. 

The hand that was resting on Michael's arm began squeezing hard enough to hurt. Ahn's breath on the nape of his neck became harsh and erratic. A horrific flutter in Michael's chest told him that Ahn was going to lose it. It would be over for both of them. 

Mike did his best to quietly move. He put all the effort he could into moving silently underneath the crinkley thin shield, the sole thing between them and their possible death. He lifted his hand, and placed it over Ahn's. 

They sat crouched by the foot of the tree for the entire night that way, neither of them wanting to gamble on moving a muscle. It was one of the longest nights of Michael's life. 

By the time the morning light rolled around Mike could barely feel his body. everything felt cold and stiff and if he moved he feared his body would shatter into a million pieces. 

The enemy troops started waking up and packing their bags before leaving inch by inch. They were still following the path, but Ahn ushered Mike to hold still a little longer. 

By the time either of them felt comfortable to move, the sky had already become as light as it was going to get for the day. With wobbly knees and even wobblier general optimism, they diverted the main road and continued their trek to the northeast. 

They continued for another day at a cautious pace before setting up a proper place to sleep. They finally had something of a routine. set up shop. Get undressed, eat whatever they had left of their food and then sleep. 

Michael found himself lying awake despite the exhaustion that was eating away at his psyche. And something in the rise and fall of Ahn's chest suggested he wasn't sleeping either. 

"Hey." Michael mumbled. 

Ahn looked over his shoulder for a moment before rolling over to face Michael. 

"Why is it only you? You can't be the only one they sent out here." Michael blinked at him. 

Ahn thought for a moment, rubbing the bags under his eyes. "There was...an accident. We were doing recon... I got cut off. Now it's just me. It's not safe to go back that way." 

"Do you know if they're planning on coming back at all?" 

"Too much. Even if they do, they no find me. Best to go the long way." Ahn closed his eyes as if to say the conversation was over for the night. But even after a drawn out silence, Ahn wasn't asleep. He was too tense. 

"Hey-" Mike started again,"-I'll take a shift. Look out just in case. You get some rest." 

Ahn looked up at him one more time, almost as though he didn't believe that Michael could make it a shift. But then he relaxed and closed his eyes for a final time. 

Michael patted Ahn's arm until he could hear a soft snoring sound coming from him. He had slept next to the guy for a good bit of time and up until that point he didn't know Ahn could snore. 

Michael was starting to fear he would never get out of that fucking jungle. The days started turning into weeks, and the rains changed. He was losing more weight each day, and the harsh unfamiliar food was wreaking havoc on his digestive system. Hell he was probably losing more water by shitting it out than he could make up for by drinking. 

Ahn wasn't a whole lot better. His frame was skinny and his ribs were sticking out. His stubble was starting to become a full beard, and Mike could only tell that because he felt it on his shoulder nearly every night. 

Michael did his best to count the days accurately. It was hard to think clearly when being bombarded with so much strain from so many angles, But he would never forget the instant it stopped fucking raining.


	12. Chapter 12

July 3rd 1970, 

Michael had trailed behind Ahn to the point where he felt it was where he was supposed to be. He didn't know if he would call them friends in a genuine sense, but he was just glad that Ahn didn't decide to cut his losses and strangle Mike in his sleep. 

The rains had picked back up once or twice, but ultimately they were light showers by comparison to what he had experienced in the past few weeks. 

The chafing of Mike's wet clothes started to get worse as they clung to his form. It was starting to get muggy, and his clothes were beyond dirty. He smelled rank.

They eventually came to a loud river, swollen from the monsoon, and maybe thirty feet across, but clear enough that they could see the rocks and grass beneath. 

Ahn let out an excited noise, somewhere between a giggle and stifled whoop before stripping and laying his clothes flat on a dry rock. He waded in the water eagerly. 

Mike hesitated to follow after. He has seen a lot of horrible creepy crawlies since he had been there and he was afraid of what was lurking in the rocks. It took a bit of coaxing from Ahn to follow suit. 

Practically peeling his clothes off his raw flesh, he laid out his uniform next to Ahn and tiptoed into the rushing water. It was cold and brisk. Once he got in hip deep, tears began to well up in the corners of his eyes. He had been so chafed that the river water felt like a blessing on his undercarriage. 

Ahn raised his eyebrows at Michael. "Hah. Yes?" He scrubbed the caked mud off his skin and dipped his hair underwater. 

If Michael could pick a single item besides food at the moment it would be baby powder. Fuck how he missed baby powder.

"We're probably gonna get swimmer's itch ya know?" Mike rolled his eyes before splashing water in his face. 

But Ahn couldn't hear him. He was too busy combing his hair with his fingers, ears under the surface of the water to listen. His lips curled up into a blissful smile. 

After both of them got out, they waited a little longer for their uniforms to dry before they had to put them back on. The gray skies above were brighter than Mike had ever seen them. It was better than it had been in a long time. 

Ahn lit a damp cigarette and offered one to him. Michael never thought it would feel so good to take a drag through something that tasted so much like dirt and leaf litter, (which at that point in his tale he had to assure Sadie that smoking was bad for one's health). 

Mike traced the angry puckered skin around his inner thighs, and under his armpits, his legs and feet, and slightly more unmentionable areas, blowing on himself to soothe the stinging bite that his fabric left on him. He wasn't looking forward to getting back into his uniform. Ahn scratched at his scalp, hissing between his teeth. He suffered a lot of the same damage it seemed. 

What was more surprising to Michael was his skin. He hadn't noticed, perhaps because it was dark out, or perhaps because the two of them had several layers of filth clinging to them, but Ahn's skin was surprisingly darker than he thought. It was less like the porcelain as he had been led to expect and more of a warm bronze. Before that point it never crossed Michael's mind that maybe delicate porcelain wasn't the staple.

Ahn shifted lightly and began putting his clothes back on, which Mike groaned about but agreed upon keeping the pace as planned. Ahn had drawn a line in the dirt earlier explaining that the roundabout way they were taking was to avoid a hostile village, or makeshift campsite, Michael wasn't sure because he spoke so little. But he got the jist of the layout. And he got the jist that they were maybe a week away from the campsite so he was eager to carry on with their trek. 

They finished off their cigarettes and continued their hike. The decline into the jungle started getting more rocky and steep, and the gnarled trees and leafy brush started caving into aggressive sprigs of bamboo. Mike was struggling to get through it all until he watched Ahn dip his shoulders gently past gaps rather than push them aside. Duh. 

After setting up camp for the night, Mike finally shot something larger than a rat, an otter. It was far greasier and tasted way worse than the rat. But there was more of it so neither of them complained. 

Ahn had pulled up what Mike initially thought was just grass, and rinsed it with rain water before chewing right through it. He shared nearly a fistful of sprigs with him before scarfing more down. Mike took a pensive bite before realizing what he bit into was a mouthful of green onion, which made his eyes water. He was certain it was a good source of vitamin C but at what cost? 

The night came with a light drizzle, and Ahn was willing to take the first shift again. Michael was fairly certain that Ahn had stayed up through most of the first few nights since he crash landed, so he politely declined the offer. He didn't want to get strangled in his sleep after all. 

The next day was the same pace. Eat rats, chew on green onion, walk. Ignore the chafing and the high probability of foot rot. Michael followed Ahn with ease because he trusted Ahn knew where he was going. What other choice did he have? 

Mike followed Ahn so well that he didn't even realize when Ahn stopped dead in his tracks, and his chin clipped the butt of the M16 slung on Ahn' back. 

"Wait. No." Ahn mumbled. 

There was a large clearing, which was covered in grass and an inch of water. The clearing of itself was roughly large enough for three or four pickup trucks ass-to-nose (Mike wasn't really into cars). 

"Why? what's wrong?" Mike looked around the dense bamboo for anything out of the ordinary. 

Ahn simply made an exploding motion with his hands before making his way back the way they came in. "I know this. We go around. Stay quiet."

They picked their way around the seemingly unassuming clearing, but at a second glance, Mike started noticing the flattened patches of grass and the boot prints beneath the thin puddle's reflection of the rolling sky above. 

Ahn tapped a sprig of bamboo and pointed down. There were impressions that looked as though people had been laying down just behind the lip of earth between the field and the bamboo. Mike wasn't sure how old it was but he took Ahn's word that it wasn't good. 

"They still might be here." Ahn mumbled. 

Michael nodded even though he knew Ahn wouldn't turn around and check, and continued to look around anxiously until they got away from the lip of the clearing. It felt too exposing. 

Boot prints laid heavily over any flat surface not occupied by bamboo shoots. They avoided any paths that were comfortable enough to walk through. Michael saw birds flying off from the other side of the clearing above the bamboo leaves. 

"Ahn." He tapped Ahn's shoulder and pointed. Ahn nodded and ushered the both of them to lay low in a denser crop several yards past the path. The dark green bamboo became like a wall that blocked their field of vision to the path, but not being able to see didn't make Michael feel any better. 

A minute passed. Then three. Then ten. Then Michael stopped counting. 

The heavy sounds of footsteps began to pass their hiding spot in single file. There were no voices to warn them, or laughter to bring any sense of leniency. Michael counted the breaks in light as they passed by, and there were more than a dozen. 

Ahn started stepping back, tugging at Michael's tank top. To get further away from the nearly silent doom only ten feet away. Michael took a step back, then another. 

Then his boot slipped on a wet rock. 

His heart nearly stopped as ice shot through his veins. One of the soldiers muttered something to the one in front of him. Michael could hear hands gripping the stock of a rifle. 

Ahn yanked Michael closer to him and put his hand over his mouth as white hot lights sputtered through the bamboo wall. Sawdust puffed out the holes like a fine mist. 

Michael began to lose his grip on his consciousness before he realised that Ahn was covering his mouth and nose. This was it. He was going to strangle him for being such a useless loser. 

Ahn swallowed as he breathed from his mouth. Slowly he removed his hand from Mike's face, stroking the hair on the back of his head to keep him from losing his shit. Michael's whole body weight was pressed up against the shoots behind him. 

When the edges of his eyes no longer throbbed and the tentative breaths of air he was pulling into his lungs felt like they were enough, he realized that the spray of lead was a lazy sweep. There was no aim, and it wasn't dense. Just enough to satisfy the soldier that there was nothing hiding out of sight. 

He wasn't sure when they pulled away. He wasn't sure how long he and Ahn had been standing there. He was sure he was going to faint because apparently he had the constitution of a damsel in distress. Maybe Ahn should have snuffed him in his sleep. 

Both Ahn and Mike pulled themselves out of the dense patch, nearly tugging arms out of sockets and stumbled down the foot-apart declines. Michael waited for Ahn was going to take the lead, but instead he leaned up against a ridge of dirt to catch his breath. Ahn sunk down and made an attempt to get back up, but couldn't. 

A dark stain on Ahn's right thigh grew wider with every breath. Michael's stomach threw itself down an elevator shaft. 

"Ah shit, ah shit! Did they get you?" Mike leaned down, hands dancing over the fabric of Ahn's thigh. Ahn took a pocket knife and started cutting a slit in the fabric. 

Indeed there was a bullet wound. But Mike couldn't even tell where. Bamboo splinters embedded his thigh, punching holes in him in a splat the size of a dinner plate. It was a fucking disaster. Blood oozed out of pinpricks in his skin, and the largest hole in the center was basically just pulp. 

Ahn took his t shirt off and began tearing a strip off the bottom, tourniquetting his leg. He pulled out the largest pieces of bamboo, which were maybe the width of a toothpick, but shorter. "Get a fire. Go!" 

It took a solid hour for Michael to get the wet supplies and salvage them into a fire. As he got a pitiful flame going, masking the smoke with a bundle of leafy bamboo sprigs, he put his pocket knife in long enough for the edges to start glowing orange. All the while Ahn was hissing through his teeth and groaning as he pulled out more and more hair-fine splinters. He had balled up his tank top and was biting down hard enough for the muscles in his jaws to bulge. 

There was less blood loss than Michael expected. Thankfully the pressure was enough. He was glad the bullet didn't hit some vital artery. He wrapped the handle in Ahn's discarded shirt and gave it to Ahn's outstretched hand. 

Ahn squeezed at his wound in a vain attempt to push the bullet out before caving in and using the knife. Heavy breathing and pained screams seeped between his clenched jaw and the cloth in his mouth in muffled anguish as he pried the bullet and a sliver of bamboo nearly an inch long out. Michael watched in sick dazed awe as Ahn pressed down on the jam-like flesh, leaking out only a broken sob. 

Ahn spat out his tank top, breathing heavily with sweat forming over every inch of his skin. "Hot water. Get it hot." 

Michael nodded and did what he was told. 

He knew what would come next. He had to pass basic first aid. Ahn's wound needed to be dressed with clean gauze. And they didn't have clean gauze. Michael took back his thought about wishing he had baby powder more than anything else in the world. 

With strips of Ahn's t-shirt, doused in water as hot as he could get it and given a moment to cool, He helped Ahn dress the wound as best as he could. It was easier on paper than in practice. It seemed to be a theme in Michael's life. 

Neither of them pressed to start up camp, and as night began to fall Mike merely threw his old parachute over the two of them where they were sitting. 

Ahn was possibly the biggest badass that Michael had ever met. Maybe his chances would have been better if Michael never showed up. Before he fell asleep he let guilt kick his ass as much as physically possible. 

Ahn should have snuffed him in his sleep the first day they met.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW Trypophobia  
> TW Unreality

July 10th 1970, 

The very next morning Ahn was in worse shape. Michael placed a palm to Ahn's sweaty forehead, and to his dismay felt a burning heat emanate from it. 

Their travel onward from that point was slow and tedious. Ahn declined any help walking despite being unable to hide the pain he was in. He merely hobbled a bit ahead of Michael, to which he would stop every few paces to allow Ahn to keep his lead. 

They had to stop for food and water, and it only stayed down for a few moments before Ahn retched it back up onto the forest floor. Mike ushered him to keep drinking water, but Ahn blatantly refused as he dry heaved. Michael resorted to patting his back to offer what little comfort there was to be had. 

The clouds began to finally break their uniformed blanket, allowing small beams of bright yellow light to poke through now and then. It drizzled, then there was light. Then more drizzle. The cycle continued through most of the day, and every time they had a break from the drizzle, the two of them would be clouded by gnats and flies. 

Michael urged his friend to take more breaks when they could. Drink more water. He'd find more and boil it if he had to. He knew they couldn't stay in any one place long but Ahn wouldn't be able to keep a pace without it. 

Ahn must have known that too, but his breaks were shorter than Michael would have liked. His sips of water were shallower. 

The bamboo was almost as unyielding as the gnats, growing so thick in some areas that they had no choice but to pick their way up and down rocky slopes. Ahn stumbled several times before agreeing to take Michael's outstretched hand. 

By about midday, Ahn was pausing every few hours to vomit what little bile there was at the bottom of his stomach. Mike knew that there was nothing to be thrown up because it wasn't a virus or food poisoning. Ahn's skin was beginning to lose its warm luster and whenever Michael brushed up against him he was clammy and hot. Michael tried to pat his back again, only for Ahn to shrug him off and continue on. 

The light rains picked back up for the hundredth time that day, gathering on the leaves above and plopping fat droplets on top of Mike's head. The bamboo became more sparse. Or at least enough for Michael to walk beside Ahn. The slow staggering pace behind him was driving Michael crazy at that point. 

Mike watched Ahn's legs wobble beneath him. He was shivering from his uncontrollable violent heaving and he looked pale and worn. Michael finally broke and pushed into Ahn's body until he buckled and allowed him to take on a little weight. 

They continued along the way like that for a couple of hours. Ahn was stumbling more and more, as though he wasn't finding his footing at all. 

"Ah shit. You're not looking so hot," Michael groaned, "let's take a break. Have a look at your leg." 

He gently helped Ahn down, propping his swollen thigh up under a knee. Ahn winced but didn't put up a fight about it. 

"Fuck. Sorry buddy, I ain't no medic. At least we got clean water." Mike did his best to calm the both of them. 

Michael unwrapped the cloth around Ahn's wound, revealing small white grubs crawling through the exposed hole in Ahn's thigh. Ahn let out a blood curdling scream, trying to inch away from his own leg and face twisted up in horror. 

Michael threw his hands up in a panic. "Don't look! Don't look! Just… close your eyes bud." 

Ahn did as he was told without hesitation, pressing his palms into his eyes and rattling out shaky sobs. His whole body trembled like a leaf. 

"Its okay. I'll clean this up. Just keep your eyes closed." Michael cooed as he pressed what was left of his water out of the canister and flushed out the wound.  
The maggots were writhing as they drowned in the gush of water, some of the more bloated ones rolled off into the dirt. 

Michael gagged for a moment and pressed on the wound and squeezed a few more out before gently scraping them off with his pocket knife. Ahn was still sobbing into his hands, spoken between gasping breaths in a broken wobbly voice. Michael couldn't understand what he was saying. He wished he spoke Korean.

One word did stand out though. It had to stand out because Ahn kept repeating it. "Eomma." 

Michael redressed his wound as cleanly as possible. He would reboil when they set up shop for the night. Whatever was sick was already inside Ahn and time wasn't on their side. 

Ahn nodded briskly when Michael gave him permission to look again and draped his arm over Michael's shoulder. He wiped his tears away and carried on despite the tremble Mike felt in his arm. 

The sound of birds chattering and light rains pattering took up the space between them, but Ahn's focus seemed distant and vacant. 

"So… Who's Eomma? Is she hot?" Michael nudged Ahn's chest with a free fist. He was willing to try anything to stop thinking about the maggots that would probably later see him in his dreams. 

Ahn looked at Mike as though his brain had just taken a bite out of a lemon. "Hah. No. Not Eomma. Is my eomma." 

It took a second for it to click in Mike's head. "Oh! Phth. It's your mom!" He threw his head back and laughed for the first time in a long time. 

"Yeah. Eomma. Gross." Ahn chuffed out of his nose with amusement.

It touched Michael in an odd way. He had been following Ahn for so long, so certain that he was always more tenacious and sure of himself than Michael was. But there he was not two minutes ago crying for his mommy. 

It never occurred to Michael that maybe he was just as scared. Just as lost and out of place. Just as homesick. 

As the daylight began to fail, Michael started up camp alone. He had laid Ahn down gently and Ahn wasn't able to move since then, instead spending all his energy breathing heavily. 

He redressed the wounds properly and tried to get Ahn to drink water again and eat some green onion stalks. This time Ahn didn't vomit it up. He just rolled on his side and fell asleep. 

Michael stayed up looking after him. He was afraid of falling asleep and waking up to a corpse. He bludgeoned himself with guilt. He'd never forgive himself. Every so often he'd check on his breathing, or blow gently on his forehead to keep his brains from cooking. He was so warm that the inside of the tent was muggy. Eventually he broke and opened the parachute enough to let cool air seep in. 

Ahn wasn't stirring in his sleep. He didn't wake up to change shifts, he just laid still on his side. He wasn't snoring. 

Michael fought off the sensation that he was falling off a cliff, keeping maggots out of his eyes and ears and the buzzing sound from ripping into his guts and teeth, the caked mud under his nails from raking into his gums as his head bobbed in and out of sleep. 

Eventually he lost the fight. 

He woke up on his side the next morning. The early gray mist blanketed the soil he slept on. 

"Ahn!" He jolted up. He looked over his shoulder to where Ahn was still. He was afraid of touching him in fear that he was going to be cold. Slowly he placed a finger behind his ear. His skin was still warm and there was a soft steady pulse. 

"Come on buddy. You gotta wake up." Michael patted his shoulder, relieved. Ahn didn't stir. 

The air in Michael's chest tightened. Ahn wasn't dead. But something told Mike he was inching his way out the door. 

"Hey, Ahn. Come on. Please wake up." He jostled Ahn's shoulder a bit. Fear gripped hold of Michael so hard it could have crushed him. 

He put his forehead on Ahn's arm as the panic held him in place. "Please wake up Buddy. I can't do this alone. I don't want to be alone. Please wake up." 

Michael wouldn't forgive himself if he let Ahn die. It was his fault he was shot from a stupid slip up. Ahn had a family he needed to get home to. Ahn had a mother he dearly missed, and he had fought so hard for so long to get back. Ahn was a fighter. He deserved to make it back home. 

Michael had nothing to go back to. Every bridge that was ever built he had burned to the ground by just being his fuckup self. He laid on the cool ground next to Ahn and allowed that despair that he had been pushing back for weeks to consume him. 

He thought about that gully behind the gas station in Wisconsin, and how there was nothing there for him. And about Franklin Tennessee, the only place he had ever called his home, and the folks there that deserved more than what Michael offered. He thought about the empty gaping eight years in between, like it had been castrated from his brain with a hot spoon. Fuck maybe it was. 

If anyone were to die out here… "It should have been me. I'm sorry." His voice came out as a harsh wheeze near Ahn's ear. 

A few moments went by as Michael held Ahn's back close to him. As though a hug would be enough to keep Ahn clinging for life. 

"Shut the fuck up...trying to sleep." Ahn mumbled through dry lips, his thoughts seemingly as limp as his body. 

Michael wiped tears off his cheek. He wasn't sure when he started shedding them. "Hey. Hi there. We gotta go buddy." 

Despite feeling the weight in his own limbs buckle underneath wobbling exhaustion, he helped prop Ahn up, who merely whimpered in confusion. "Ahn don't conk on me dude-" he wrestled his rubbery friend's weight over his shoulder, trying to jostle some life into him, "-think of your eomma or something." 

"Hmm...Eomma." Ahn hummed distantly as Michael started putting the camp equipment back in Ahn's bags. 

He got Ahn to at least get his feet on the ground, despite most of his weight leaned up on Michael's back. Fuck he wasn't sure how long he'd be able to piggy back him. He simply didn't have the strength. It was best to keep a steady pace, but at this rate Ahn wasn't going to make it another night. 

Ahn was nearly a deadweight. Or worse, because deadweights didn't trip up other people when they did try to walk. But Michael was just glad he was breathing at that point. 

Mike ditched some of his own equipment. to lighten the load. He didn't care that the extra magazine was crucial. If they came across a surprise camp, neither he nor Ahn would be able to draw a weapon anyways. 

He kept what was left in the remaining magazine, removed his helmet, and ditched anything that wouldn't fit in his pockets. 

Ahn whined about it, but did nothing to stop him. He was barely aware of what was going on anyways. 

The decline was getting less rocky as they went on, but just a steep. Ahn decided it was time to go completely limp. At that point Mike simply laid down where they were and counted to one hundred before getting back up and pulling Ahn over his shoulders. 

Michael was always weak. Even in basic he could barely lift his own weight. He hadn't eaten a proper meal since he crashed, the bruises on his chest looked like shit and his feet were so blistered that every step felt like he was standing on razors. 

He had to keep telling himself that no sane man would shit on him for not being able to carry Ahn consistently through the day. Despite the grating of a bony pelvis on Michael's back, Ahn Ye J. was probably the densest man he had ever met. It was like if a piece of straw were asked to carry a brick. 

He allowed the sheer audacity of the situation to flare into petty anger. Give him an edge to go on a little longer than the last time he buckled and needed a break. 

This was fucking bullshit. 

The wave of anger kept up long after his body finally gave out. It was midday and the heat and humidity continued to climb.

Ahn's eyes fluttered open as Michael tried to shove some onion and water into his mouth, but quickly he lost consciousness again. 

They sat in a small grassy patch between the trees and Michael muttered to himself angrily about literally anything that would keep him fueled enough to keep fighting. This whole stupid war. Being weak and terrible at surviving. The weather. Gas prices. He knew that nobody was listening but it made him feel better regardless. 

He continued his angry ranting in between dabbing what was left of his water supply on his tank top and patting Ahn's forehead and neck. 

As he sat on the ground, pulling up grass and eating it, despite being uncertain that it was edible, he heard a loud rumble. Engines? Trucks. Close by. 

He got up slowly and looked out past the thicket of low hanging palm fronds. About a football field away, he saw armored vehicles pass their shadows through the brush. US no doubt, but he needed to be sure. 

He got close enough to see US uniforms before pulling out on the dirt road. 

He waved his hands as a gun mount passed by. "Wait stop! Please!" 

The truck rolled past a couple of yards before finally slowing down the line. Once the engines were at a simmer he could hear the GIs leaning over talking about him. 

"Who the fuck are you?" One of them called out and placidly threw a butt at him. 

"There's no time! My friend, h-he's hurt! He needs a medic!" Michael bumbled. It had been so long since he heard a voice or seen another person it was hard to believe it was even real. 

One of them tapped on the other's chest and pulled himself down. He was maybe 5'8 and stout. Michael couldn't read his patch fast enough. "Medic's at the back. I'll go get him. Stay where you are." 

Michael nodded distantly. He waited impatiently, shuffling from one foot to another to keep his balance. 

The guy came back with a two medic's and some of their gear. This time, Michael was prepared. The patch read Kennedy. He ushered Mike to take the lead "Come on. Show me your friend."

Michael slipped back into the brush, praying that his friend would still be breathing when he got back. He made his way up the steep hill with palm fronds and into the grassy patch where he had left Ahn propped up. 

The medics took charge of the situation immediately, pulling out a stretcher and moving him on. They began talking to one another but Michael was struggling to focus on anything other than Ahn. 

"Jesus Christ, you fucking found Ahn." Kennedy shook his head with wide eyes. 

Michael's brows furrowed trying to search for the questions he had been asking about Ahn since he met him. But nothing came up. Just silence. 

"Good job. We'll get you guys to camp. We were about to head that way anyhow." Kennedy patted Mike's shoulder so hard he thought he was going to flop over. 

He followed them back to the road and had soldiers on the truck help pull him up.  
The second his boots hit the metal hull he sunk to his knees. 

Most of the soldiers were tired and scruffy looking, but not in the way he was. 

Immediately they began bombarding him with questions. One of them nudged his shoulder with a knee. "Wait wait, hold on a second, you're not a grunt. What are you? Mechanic?" 

Of course he didn't see the patches. He left the extra layers behind as well. One of the soldiers handed him a canteen of water, which he sucked down so fast he made himself nauseous. "Air Force." 

He tried to pay attention to their questions but his ears couldn't focus on anything other than the engine beneath him. There was more clammer than he had been used to, sitting in near silence for so long that he just wanted to get away from them. 

The light filtering through the leaves was blinding. The ringing in his ears cascaded like a waterfall behind his head. 

His ears had been out of focus ever since his plane was torn apart. His eyes have been out of focus since he had been thrown out of the air. He could barely feel the weight of his limbs or the air in his lungs. 

The only thing he could think of was Ahn walking in front of him. It was the only thing in the world that made sense anymore. 

Michael almost made it into the camp before the hot light from behind the canopy disappeared behind his eyes entirely.


	14. Chapter 14

"Yeah but it's not like you guys died or anything. You're sitting right there." Sadie interjected, pulling herself up in her seat abruptly. 

Ye jun rubbed his temples with his elbows planted firmly on the table top, trying his best to keep from getting a full blown migraine. As he was prone to when he was in stressful situations. 

"I am trying to weave a rich tapestry here!" Michael pointed at her with a fork as though he were punctuating his point in the thought space between them. 

Sadie scowled at him, lip pursed in a chubby cheeked pout. "It didn't even answer any of my questions." 

Michael inhaled to retort, but fell short. "...I don't appreciate your tone." 

Ye jun picked himself up and started collecting the empty plates to soak in the sink. He usually took care of them before dinner, but if the rhythmic throb was going to turn into a blinding pain he would have to consider putting it off until the next day. "We'll tell you more later. We need a break for now. Michael I know you have things to do." 

Michael blinked at him as though he thought he might have actually had a chore list for the day and forgotten before he took the hint. "Yeah. I need to get more milk, and I was thinking about doing a pasta salad for supper so I might pick up some other stuff." 

Sadie shoved her shoulder into the chair and winced when it hit hard wood. "So you're not even gonna talk about my mom. This is so lame. Can I at least borrow the pictures? I wanna look at them longer." 

After Ye jun soaked the plates in the sink, he pushed his chair in. He just wanted the conversation to be over. He had a laundry list of things to do. And it was supposed to be a no-pants day to top it off. 

"I dunno, Junebug what do you think?" Michael started shuffling the pile of photos on the table together. 

"Um… yeah sure. Just don't break them." Ye jun grumbled before pulling a note pad off the cork board and kicking his slippers back in place. 

"Okay Sadie you can borrow them, let me just um," he pulled the box from her greedy reaching hands to flip through them quickly and make sure there weren't any inappropriate ones lingering on there before handing it back, "here you go sweetie." 

Mike tucked a few photos away in his shirt pocket before hobbling over to the hallway where they kept their shoes. 

Sadie tucked the box under her arm and stood next to Ye jun as he started writing an outline of what he was going to say on the notepad. "So how long were you and Mom together? Did you fight a lot? My friend Jordan's parents got divorced and now he lives in his dad's apartment." 

Ye jun shot her a stern glance until she finally stopped talking. "Go play. I have things I need to do." 

Sadie huffed and threw her free hand up before heading upstairs to her bedroom. 

Ye jun wrote and rewrote his script a few times before he felt it was right. He had been speaking to Eun ae more frequently than he was used to or ever wanted to and he really wasn't looking forward to the conversation. 

Sadie came down the stairs loudly, fully clothed and slammed the door behind her. Ye jun watched her ride off on her new bike to make sure she was out of earshot before calling her mother. He dialed the number nervously as Michael came back in the kitchen to check on him. He rubbed Ye jun's back a bit. 

"Don't worry I got this." Ye jun nudged him off as politely as physically possible. The rotary rang dully in his ear. 

"Still on orange I see." Michael nibbled on his cheek. 

"I'm on the phone. Psh. Orange." Ye jun growled as Mike waved him off and headed out the door. 

"Hello?" A voice picked up from the other side. 

_"We've got a problem."_ Ye jun replied in Korean. It was the sort of conversation that English left him with a dry lack of expression. And at the moment he was feeling far too much to rely on it. 

_"Oh no. Is Sadie giving you trouble. I told her to behave for you. She knows how important this is,"_ Eun ae sighed in exasperation, _"I'm sorry, she's had an attitude problem lately."_

_"No, she's been fine. Well behaved. Polite even."_ Ye jun lied through his teeth. 

_"What did something come up then? Whats wrong?"_

Ye jun had to hold back a scoff. Of all the people for something to 'come up'. She was a fine one to talk. _"No, ahem. Nothing like that. It's just that...she's been asking… a lot of questions. Questions about us."_

Ye jun could feel Eun ae's temper flare before she even spoke. _"What, you mean Michael? I told you I needed you to keep it down a notch! I told you. I knew that this would happen! Ye jun you promised-"_

_"What? No! What is that supposed to mean? We've been on our best behavior. Michael bought her a bike for Christ sakes."_ Ye jun covered his mouth immediately after he slipped. 

_"You bought her a bike!? She already has one bike at home she doesn't need another one. This was supposed to be a careful visit and already you're pulling this on me? Ye jun are you serious right now?"_

Ye jun balled up his note and threw it into the garbage. It was already too late to stick to any script. _"Eun ae I'm not trying to pull anything. That's not what the call is about."_

_"Okay okay, I'm listening. What are you calling about?"_ He could feel the tedious passage of time as he tried to come up with a new way to break her the news. 

_"... Sadie…knows."_ Ye jun dragged his fingers down the bags under his eyes. There was silence on the other end. 

_"How?"_ Eun ae growled threateningly. 

_"I don't know. I was hoping maybe you'd know."_ He rooted his hand through his hair. 

_"Ye jun… I need you to be honest with me. And don't you dare lie. Did you tell her?"_

_"No." He replied._

_"Did you screw anything up?"_

_"No!"_ He snapped at her. _"She just came out of the blue with it!"_

_"I asked you to do one simple thing Ye jun. One simple thing! You know I can't pull the plug on this right now and you're making this about you again! I can't believe it! I really needed you on this one! I was counting on you."_

Ye jun tugged at his hair. _"Wait wait, Eun ae please. I swear I don't know how she figured it out. She's just a smart kid, Please let me do this for you. I need you to know I can do this."_

_"Ye jun, I know you can do this. You're willing to try anything so that you can do this. But Dan has been there since the beginning. You're not her father. I know you're trying but..."_ Eun ae sighed. 

Ye jun began to shake all over. The very second he got close enough to Sadie, the moment was already eclipsing over him. He was drowning again. 

_"Please. Just give me a chance. I just want to help in any way I can. I know. I know. I understand. I'll… I'll straighten up. I know that the flight training is important, I'm not trying to sabotage or...or anything. I just want a chance."_ His voice came out clear and pristine as though he had practiced it. Regardless of his lightheadedness. 

_"Let me talk to her."_

_"She's outside playing. We'll be around all day though. If you call around dinner she'll be here."_ Ye jun mumbled, regretting kicking her outside. 

_"... Okay. I'll talk to her. And… I need time to think about it. I just want what's best for her. You know that right?"_

Ye jun nodded. _"I know. I want that too."_

After they said a few goodbyes, Ye jun was left alone with his thoughts. 

Ye jun was the candle wick to an open flame. As much as he loved his daughter, he knew that getting close would only get one of them burned. 

Ever since she had moved into his home he couldn't so much as look at her without feeling like he was going to pass out. He had waited for the moment to hold her little hand like when she was small.

Now the hands that he so desperately wanted to hold were unrecognizable to him. He didn't have to stand close anymore to get burned. Perhaps the eclipse had already come and gone and he was just living in the shadows, still trying to convince himself that he still had time. 

By the time Michael came home with a paper bag full of groceries, Ye jun had been choking on air for what seemed like hours, certain he was dying of a heart attack. Scared out of his damned mind. 

"God damn it Ye jun. I knew this was gonna happen." Michael muttered as he put the bag on the kitchen floor. All the same he slowly crouched into his wheelchair, rolling next to Ye jun and started the routine mindful breathing exercises.

"I'm sorry, I'm just frustrated for you." Michael stroked his back in a soothing motion and continued to touch the tips of Ye jun's fingers one by one.

Ye jun's loud choking gulps finally started to simmer until he could gather enough air to sob. He put his head down to hide his face as Michael planted tender kisses on the cup of his ear. 

Once Ye jun finally mustered the courage to face Mike, he lifted his head and wiped his face clean. 

"Are we at orange still?" Michael asked in a non accusative tone. 

"No… I'm green." 

"What did she say? You… didn't talk to Dan did you?" Michael swallowed nervously. 

"No I talk to Eun ae. She's mad but she say she's gonna have a talk with Sadie." 

"Is she pulling the plug?" Michael wrapped his hands around Ye jun's and squeezed them gently. 

"I don't know. She's mad we got her a bike." 

Michael's whole body twitched in a zapping wave before he exchanged his expression of shock for one of guilt. "I'm… I'm sorry. I didn't even think… I just wanted to stay out of your way. And I'm fucking everything up I'm sorry baby." 

"It's not just the bike. You know how she is."

"You mean a bitch," Michael defended himself as Ye jun drew in a breath to retort, "no, she's being a huge bitch right now and I'll take that to my grave." 

Ye jun simply sighed and rubbed his temples. He could feel a familiar piercing feeling behind his eyes. He was definitely going to have a migraine later. 

"Just. If there's anything you need me to do, you name it and I won't get in your way." Michael concluded, which his conclusions rarely stayed put for long. 

But that time it stuck. They sat there quietly for a long time not saying much. 

Ye jun's brows furrowed as he closed his eyes tiredly. "I don't think it matters what we do."

By the time Eun ae called again, Sadie was halfway through her meal. Ye jun ushered Mike out of the room, and got as far as the living room before Michael broke and went back to snoop. 

Ye jun could hear the tone in Sadie's voice, a lot of "yes ma'am's" and "no ma'am's" but not much else. After she hung up she asked to go to bed early. Ye jun couldn't blame her. 

As she passed the living room in the hall she gave him a funny look before breaking and looking at the floor. Michael came into the living room, his face red for not making a clean getaway. It made Ye jun chuckle dryly. 

"What did she say Mr. Nosey?" Ye jun rested his chin on his knuckles with a small amount of hollow amusement.

"She said to call her mom if anything happens… and she was vague about it so I assume that means we're under satellite surveillance now." Michael patted Oscar's head as the dog flopped it into his open lap. 

Ye jun impulsively tensed up around those kinds of passes, but Michael chuckled afterwards. It was just a harmless joke, but he decided it was best not to feed into it. 

Ye jun turned on the TV as Michael pulled out the book he was working on and moving to sit on the loveseat next to him. 

"I... really blew it didn't I?" Ye jun flipped through the channels aimlessly.

"I dunno. We still have time. And you know something else?" He snuggled closer to Ye Jun. 

"What?" 

"Even if her mom decides… you know, the worst. Once Sadie's eighteen she can do whatever she wants. And she might just happen to need a place to crash. It's never too late Junebug. If you don't want it to be."

Ye jun blinked slowly, allowing himself to mull it over. "I don't know if I'll live that long." 

"You have no choice. I'll have a firm chat with Jesus tonight to make sure." 

Ye jun wanted to retort that praying didn't work like that, but he was too tired to give Michael the satisfaction.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW Suicide  
> TW Homophobia 
> 
> * Beefcake or physique magazines feature photographs of "beefcake": muscular men – typically young and attractive – in athletic poses, usually in revealing, minimal clothing. During their heyday in North America in the 1940s to 1960s, they were commonly presented as magazines dedicated to fitness, health, and bodybuilding, with the models often shown demonstrating exercises or the results of their regimens, or as artistic reference material. However, their unstated primary purpose was erotic imagery, for gay and bisexual men and straight women, skirting mid-20th-century censorship laws which prohibited depiction of full nudity, and cultural taboos against homosexuality.
> 
> * The handkerchief code is a system of color-coded cloth handkerchief or bandanas for non-verbally communicating one's interests in sexual activities and fetishes. The color of the hanky identifies a particular activity, and the pocket it is worn in identifies the wearer's preferred role in that activity. 
> 
> * Baby blue on the right back pocket means looking for flyboys and might easily be mistaken for light blue for cocksucker.

December 8th 1969, 

He told himself just once. One time then that was it. One time Ye jun was going to steal a Male Physique magazine* from the corner store where he got his pack of smokes.

Well, not steal, as he made sure to put enough in the tip jar to cover it. But nonetheless it made his face numb to stuff the magazine into his jean jacket when no one was looking.

But one time turned into two. And then three.

Eventually he had enough magazines that he was worried he was going to run out of space in the little shoe box he hid them in.

He rationalized it by saying to himself that he wasn't hurting anybody by doing it. He could still love his wife despite his secret. The secret he could only shove as far down as the inside of his bedroom closet would let him.

All the same he usually began his confessions with the same phrase. "I've been having homosexual thoughts." Followed by twenty or thirty Hail Mary's.

His life fit together so perfectly it was dizzying to think of for too long. When his sisters talked him into the date Ye jun wasn't sure it would stick. His first date with Eun ae, he was quiet and not too attentive.

They were both meek, tight lipped, and honestly embarrassed about the whole ordeal.

The dates that he went on felt good though. He liked the way she would hold his arm when they walked through the town, or how she would complain how fast he was driving and clutch her chest like she was going to pass out despite him only driving five miles above the speed limit.

Ye jun remembered a time when he was a young teen in the workshop alongside his father. He had pulled him aside to give him one of his famous life advice lessons. Telling Ye jun that he shouldn't aim for the prettiest girl, but the safest. 

Eun ae was definitely safe. She was sweet and despite his father's words, he always saw her as a beautiful woman, when neither she, nor her own parents agreed. Said she was too fat.

Ye jun's parents adored her. Said she would make a great wife. Said that she definitely knew how to cook a good meal, whatever that meant.

So it made sense to him to get married. She was kind and beautiful and would notice when he was beat from work. She would rub his shoulders and kiss his forehead. Thank him for putting up with the bullshit in the workshop. His parents were right. She would make a good wife.

At twenty years old he had found himself married, in a two bedroom house his father had saved up and bought. And yet Ye jun would lay in bed in the small hours of the night, feeling like his chest would cave in at any moment.

So maybe a magazine was all he needed. Maybe it was just a want just like every other want he's ever had.

He'd never be an astronaut. He wasn't a smart man. He'd never be tall or thin. He was only 5'6. He'd never get to sit at a white bar with white men and blend in for the sake of his own peace. 

His father had convinced him that he was needed in the workshop, so he could work for a man that paid them what may as well have been dirt, and had his own affectionate slurs picked out for the week. His mother had convinced him that he wasn't smart enough for school anyways. He finally caved in and dropped out in the 8th grade. 

Maybe he could keep all of his wants deep down inside his bedroom closet.

Ye jun knew he was gay in the fifth grade. Carl Braxton was this popular boy who had lots of friends. He was good at sports and people always gravitated towards him. At first Ye jun thought he was jealous of him.

But at some point he realized he didn't want others to look at him instead of Carl Braxton, but he wanted Carl Braxton to look at him. He wanted that boy to notice him and Ye jun wasn't sure if he hated Carl or wanted to be his friend.

He tried out for a spot on the baseball team simply because Carl was on it. He ended up flopping and making a fool of himself. Carl only noticed him long enough to make fun of his face, his food he brought from home, his voice that would be turned into a cheap accent that never ceased to be a barrel of laughs for Carl's friends. 

During recess, Ye jun put a toad in his hair and ran away.

Carl Braxton worked in the courthouse these days, and had begun showing signs of hair loss by the end of high school. He never did like Ye jun after the toad incident. Maybe that's why he was losing his hair.

Ye jun thought about the toad incident a lot. He thought about stealing magazines so he could run fake scenarios in his head. Of them touching him, or him touching them. He'd feel ashamed afterwards and tell himself never again but he'd always go back to the shoebox whenever he fought with crippling loneliness. He thought about his wife.

His life was played out so perfectly in front of him but inside he was dying.

One evening Eun ae went out with her friends, as she did every Thursday evening, and asked him to put a meal in the oven.

As he prepped the oven, his hand folded over the gas knob, and his mind whispered so loudly to him it made his stomach flip. Put your head in the oven.

The moment passed but he was left shaking all over.

There was this one place on the outskirts of town. Rumor went the place was threatened to close down because of 'indecent behavior' in the early 60s but the town council never got around to it. Not with that giant sinkhole opening up next to the feed store. 

Ye jun wasn't sure what he was expecting when he stood in the handkerchief section of the clothing shop. Only that he had seen the occasional 'indecent man' wearing them out of their back pockets*. He stood there for the longest time trying to figure out what the gayest color the store owned was. Baby blue* was a gay color right? 

The bar itself was run down and uninteresting. It was old and the windows were curtained so it always looked closed. Honestly Ye jun was worried about catching gonorrhea just by sitting on the stool. He sipped a pint of beer, feeling very much like an idiot. He tried to ignore the muffled snickering to his right. 

A man sat down next to him, slightly older, dirty blonde hair in a bomber jacket. He started sweet talking Ye jun a bit, but he never focused on what he was saying. He had already made up his mind before the guy offered to buy a drink. 

Ye jun moved onto three shots of whisky before he had the gall to move from his seat. 

He was up against a wall, grinding and smothering his breath in a deep kiss in the bathroom, barely a foot from a urinal. He tried not to think of the groaning sounds coming from the stalls. The guy that he hadn't caught the name of pushed on his head until he knelt. Ye jun watched as he unbuckled his pants in front of him. The whole thing was slightly overwhelming. 

"Well go on." He prompted. 

Ye jun did his best to be enthusiastic, but after his best efforts of sloppily gobbing on the guy's outstretched cock, all he got out of him was a wince. The guy pushed him off. "All right kiddo you don't know what you're doing." 

He sat back on his heels, red in the face and wiping himself on his sleeve as the guy rebuckled and left him there on the bathroom floor. "Go home country boy." 

By the time Ye jun got home everything sunk in and all he could do was out his head down on the kitchen table. 

His wife Eun ae was used to him getting migraines and she often thought nothing of them. She would often go out on her Thursday girl's nights, in which Ye jun would spend the time tucking a pillow against the baseboard of his bed so he could pretend he was being cradled. 

But from then on Thursdays became a series of the shittiest nights of his week. He tried not to think too hard about the holes in the bathroom stalls that he used, or who's lips they belonged to. Between his forehead pressing against a cold wood board and pressing against a warm body that only isolated him further, both choices were their own personal hell. 

Eventually Ye jun stopped doing Thursdays altogether. He found it harder and harder to have the energy to bathe himself. 

If he turned this around maybe there would be no damage. Everything could go back to the way it was. The perfect life his family always wanted and a box of magazines tucked into his closet. 

That was until his box of magazines ended up on the kitchen table. He had come home from work to the displacement, and a very silent wife doing anything in the kitchen other than look at him. 

He sat stiffly in front of the box, waiting for something to happen. He wasn't sure what. Just something. 

Eun ae finally turned around. "Mind explaining this?" 

Ye jun simply shook his head and tucked his hands into his armpits. His heart had dropped somewhere under the house the second he set eyes on the box. His blood was hot vapor thinner than the air around him. 

Eun ae tried to be calm about it as one could. She told him she was worried because her friends had put thoughts into her head about Ye jun. His hollow interest in her had shone through whether he wanted it to or not. 

Ye jun remained silent. He didn't know what to say. When she asked if he was cheating on her, the only thing he could think of was to look at the floor like a fright-stiffened rabbit. 

At that point, any thread of composure Eun ae had was severed. She threw things at him. She screamed. She cried. She called him awful words he didn't think she could physically produce. 

She called her mother to ask for a place to stay. Ye jun didn't have the heart to protest as she shoved things into a briefcase.

He spent the whole night in an initial state of shock. He patted the wrinkles out of the clothes she had forgotten and folded them back into their dresser. He took out the trash and cranked open a beer as he went through the week old mail. It didn't register in his mind that he had gotten draft papers from the Army until a few hours later. 

That night he did place his head in the oven. It seemed as simple and mindless a task as putting laundry away. Crank up the gas and fall asleep. 

Instead of drifting into a comfortable sleep, he rolled out onto the floor and flopped to his side to vomit. As the fringes of reality began to seep into nonsensical static, he finally got his sense of urgency and opened up the back door to stumble out into the hydrangea bush. 

As he laid on the topsoil he stared up into the cold winter starlight above. He had done everything he was told his whole life without a second guess. Why should the Army be any different?


	16. Chapter 16

Sadie was awoken at the ass crack of dawn. Michael spoke to her that morning like she was as fragile as the eggs they carried indoors. 

She had spent most of her evening in her room, partially under the covers and flipping through the photos and polaroids in the shoe box, enamoured with the small glimpses into a world she barely knew about. She wanted to absorb every image in the hopes that she could finally tuck Gus Thorton out of her mind entirely. 

She didn't know if fragile was the word she would use to describe how she felt. In fact she didn't think a word existed. Garpolgef. Yeah that sounded right. 

Sundays were usually the worst days of the week for her back at home. Her mother made her wear itchy stuffy dresses to mass and sit still and try not to wiggle or talk as grumpy old people talked on and on for far longer than she cared to pay attention to. 

Her uncle's...or father's mass wasn't all that different save for a few things. The church was smaller than her mom's and more renovated, people talked quieter and the echoes didn't last as long. It was her second time going to mass, despite having been there for at least three Sundays at that point. Katelyn was there too in a small green lacy dress. She waved but they couldn't speak to each other. 

She didn't have anything that fancy to wear, and her father (or whatever, she just decided to call him Jun from that point on) knew about her limited wardrobe, and decided she could wear whatever she wanted so long as they weren't jeans. 

Jun would dress up, but not like the dreadful way he'd dress up on Friday evenings. A pale blue button up shirt tucked into fresh pressed black slacks. Like a normal human being. Even Uncle Mike dressed up a bit, rather than his usual baggy t-shirts and linen pants, he was wearing a short sleeved white button down and even a little yellow bowtie. If only he had done something about his ponytail then he would have looked semi decent for once. 

They sat at the end of the booth, so Mike had a place to park his wheelchair. Once the priest finished the sermon, people started pouring to the confession stand. She hated the confession stand. 

She slumped down into the booth, bored out of her mind, next to Mike. She looked at him for a moment, as he maneuvered his chair in the walk path backing up and chewing on his lip trying to let people slip by him. 

"Aren't you going to confession? Jun went up." Sadie looked over at him. 

"No dear. I'm okay for now." Mike smiled weakly. 

"But you gotta. Mom says you gotta solve your sins in church." Sadie crossed her arms. 

"Absolve darlin'." He chuckled. 

"Whatever. You know what I mean." Sadie rolled her eyes. She hated being corrected by adults all the time. 

"Well, um...hm… It's more Ye jun's thing. I don't have to go to confession if I don't want to. Besides the place ain't exactly wheelchair accessible." Mike chuckled dryly and looked over his glasses. 

Sadie frowned, thinking of the times where she would have to scrape something together to hand to her priest and pacify her mother's nagging. "Mom makes me do it every Sunday. It's boring." 

"Well I'm not your mom. I'm not gonna make you do anything. You can go ahead if you want to though." He rolled his wrist. 

She groaned at the thought. 

"You got something on your mind?" Mike propped an elbow on the booth and leaned over Sadie to poke her exposed tummy. She shooed him away. 

"That's just it! You keep talking to me like I'm gonna explode or something! I'm fine. I'm not a baby." She glared at him. 

Uncle Mike nodded and looked down. "I just know it's… it's a lot. I think it's reasonable to say that it's a lot to take in. And I want you to know that you can talk to us. If you want to, that is. It's like confession, it's there because sometimes people want to be listened to. Understood you know? It has a purpose." 

Sadie chewed on her lip anxiously. "Mom was mad on the phone last night. She said she didn't want me to find out… and she asked me if you guys told me… about… my dad… or not my dad, I mean…"

Mike nodded in understanding. "You don't have to call him that if you don't want to. And your mom's not mad at you." 

"I know… I just feel yucky." She stuck out her tongue. "Should I go to confession?" 

"If you want." Mike shrugged. 

Sadie sat up a little bit, her guts turning to jelly. "Uncle Mike… promise you won't get mad." 

Uncle Mike hesitated, eyes narrowing a bit. "...I mean, I won't yell at you. But I'm not gonna promise I won't get mad. Should I be mad?"

"It's just… Mom told me that Jun might try to tell me things to confuse me… or make me not trust my mom and… and I think she's mad at him but is that just because of the divorce? He wouldn't do something like that right?" 

Mike didn't speak for a moment. He simply rubbed his chin beard in thought before inhaling. "I can see why your mom would say that. She's looking out for you. Divorces can be a bit tricky. Sometimes… sometimes adults can forget that the things they want really badly aren't always good for them. They can get mighty selfish. Or say things they don't mean. And they get scared. Your mom's probably just scared because you've never been away from home for so long." 

"But… it's not his fault… Uncle Mike… I did something bad. I didn't want you to get mad but now Mom's blaming him and it's my fault." She tugged her sweater over her knees nervously. Mike raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to get to the point. 

"I snuck into your room. I'm sorry." 

Uncle Mike's eyebrows furrowed over a sharpened glare. Sadie looked at her sneakers to avoid his icy disapproval. 

"I explicitly told you our bedroom and attic were off limits. I expect you to know what you did was wrong." 

"I'm sorry. I won't do it again," she mumbled into her sleeve. 

"Now why on Earth would you do something like that? We have rules for a reason, child." 

"You don't understand! I had to. Max told me about this kid named Gus that got eaten by pigs… and how your legs got eaten off trying to get rid of the evidence…I wanted to prove she was wrong so I could rub it in her smug face." 

Mike gave her a funny little quizzical look before busting out into a hearty laugh loud enough to startle some of the people trying to leave. "Is that so now? Where are kids these days getting such ridiculous nonsense from? Ain't a lick of sense in 'em. There was something of an incident that happened, but that was way before I even started living here. Hah, eaten by pigs. I gotta use that one." 

Sadie sighed with relief. "So you guys aren't murderers?" 

"Don't believe everything you hear. Only airheads do that," he tutted.

"Am I still in trouble?" 

"I'm gonna have to have a talk with Ye jun about it. But yeah you're in trouble." 

Sadie pouted. She was getting what she deserved for snooping she guessed. At least her mom wouldn't get mad at Jun for something he didn't do. They sat quietly for a while as Uncle Mike tapped on the booth and chewed on his moustache. 

Eventually Jun came back and patted Mike's shoulder to leave. They started chit-chatting about people in the town that Sadie didn't know so she turned her brain off as she followed behind them. 

Jun said something to Mike and dashed over to the truck. 

"What's up?" Sadie tugged on Mike's sleeve to get his attention. 

"Oh, we're having troubles with the truck lately. Again. He's gonna have the auto shop take a look at it real quick. Hey how about we swing by and get some fixins for breakfast tomorrow? You like waffles?" 

She nodded and followed him on the sidewalk. In fact she was struggling to keep an even pace with him. He was much faster in his chair than she had expected, having mostly watched him inch along in his stiff fake legs. He was surprisingly lively on wheels. 

The grocery store in their town was way smaller than the one back home. In fact she could see the back wall of the store before she even stepped through the door. The produce section was flipped to the left rather than the right. It was weird. 

Once they got into the store, he handed her a basket. "Think you're strong enough to carry two cartons of buttermilk?" 

"Yeah I can handle it." She seperated the handles in each hand. 

"I might need some convincing. Let's see some muscles." 

Sadie giggled and flexed her arm. Mike looked up at the ceiling and felt her arm under her sweater. "Ooh ooh! There's one. A strong contender for this year's county fair." 

"Haha! You're weird." She shook her head. 

"Trust me my darlin' you won't be the last one to say that." Mike stiffed some grapefruits to pick the ripe ones. 

"Hey Uncle Mike. Have you ever gotten a divorce?" 

"No. Can't say I have." 

"Have you ever been married?" She scuffed her sneakers on the flooring. 

He shooed off her question as they got to the vegetables in the produce section. 

"Can you be a dear and get some of the celery? I can't fit in there." 

Sadie walked over to the celery and picked up a bag of stalks. "This one?" 

"Try bending it a little bit, don't break it though." 

He watched her near the apple display as she did as instructed. He shook his head. "Nope, too rubbery. Try to find one with a little less give." 

She got the right celery stalks and walked back with her basket. "So have you ever been married?" 

Uncle Mike blinked for a moment as though he had forgotten the question entirely the first time around. "Oh, not that I recall." 

Sadie thought quietly to herself as they moseyed to the bread section. Uncle Mike had no kids and he had never been married. He spent a lot of time living with his friend, Jun, but he must have gotten lonely sometimes.

As Mike yammered about picking baguettes the right way, she thought about how the neighborhood kids felt untrusting and nervous about the house she lived in, and about Mike's lack of legs. Maybe that's why he never got married. 

But it wasn't fair to judge him on that. He was a really sweet guy and he was funny and fun to be around. He deserved to be happy.

Sadie looked around the grocery store. There were tons of people in it that day. She analyzed each one of them. Then she stopped on someone particular. 

Of course, Esther! Esther was a tall black woman who wore her hair in a beehive. But like… a tasteful beehive. She always wore pretty dresses and sparkly earrings that looked like dragonflies or rain drops. 

She worked in the post office, and Sadie's uncles checked the mail nearly every day. Esther would be a good fit for Mike, because they both liked to talk a lot and honestly Mike could have used a bit of a feminine touch. 

Sadie looked over her shoulder at Mike, who was still busy with the bread. Then an idea popped into her head. "Hey Uncle Mike how do you know which bread loaf to pick?" 

"Well that one's easy! First you start with a once over-" and off he went. She took her chance to duck out, sliding out of the bread and over to the fruits, where Esther was pickin herself a couple of pears. 

She flattened herself around the wood of the apple display and rolled over to the oranges. Once she was safe from watchful eyes, she poked her head up from behind the pears. "Psst! Hi Miss Esther!" 

Esther gripped her chest in a start. "Well hi to you too. Child you almost gave me a heart attack." 

"Are you married?" Sadie shielded her lips with her hand. 

"Beg your pardon?" she blinked at her. 

"Are. You. Married?" Sadie whispered harshly. 

Esther gave up on looking for pears and placed her round chin on her hand amusedly. "Afraid not anymore. Why do you ask?" 

"Don't tell anyone I said this but My Uncle Mike likes you. He thinks you're hot." 

Miss Esther looked at her bright red nails, giving Sadie a sideways glance. "Is that so?" 

"Yeah. He's just really shy." Sadie flicked her wrist. 

"Well maybe I should go talk to him then." Esther smirked at Sadie. Oh yeah it was in the bag. 

Esther walked up to the bread section, with Sadie trying her best to stay out of sight. 

Esther held her purse and tapped on Mike, who at that point was just starting to notice that Sadie wasn't right there next to him. "Oh, good morning Miss Esther." 

"I think you lost something." she pointed at the apple display. Sadie ducked underneath, but it was too late. 

"Oh, I'm awful sorry, is she pestering you?" Mike chuckled nervously. 

"Actually she was just telling me how hot you think I am." Esther's casual smile started to break apart into fragments to show something more sinister beneath. She was ratting Sadie out for the pure chaos of it. 

Uncle Mike's face started flushing. "What?" 

"Well she did mention that you're shy." 

Uncle Mike started stammering. 

"Seems we have a little matchmaker on our hands." Esther folded her arms together, her eyebrows angling in phony anger. 

No! She was totally blowing it! 

"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry! No, I don't know what's gotten into her." Mike started blustering. 

"It's just because you guys would be cute together!" Sadie called out from her cover, afraid that if she got closer to them then someone would take a swing. 

"Sadie! Will you knock it off and leave these poor people alone?" Uncle Mike's eyes hid behind the glint of light on his glasses. 

"So what am I not good enough for ya?" Esther chuckled wryly. 

This was falling apart too fast for Sadie to patch it up. "No! You guys are perfect for each other! You both like to talk and you're basically the same age!" 

Mike's face went bright red as Esther busted out into giddy laughter. "I like you kid. That's the nicest compliment I've gotten in a long time! Ah. Okay you two have a good day now." She wiped a tear away and walked off. 

Mike hid his face behind his palms and stayed like that for a long time. 

"Please don't get mad Uncle Mike. I was just trying to help." Sadie crept up and poked his tummy. Once Mike came out from behind his hands, he started down the aisles so fast It startled Sadie. 

Once Sadie caught up with him, she started showering him with apologise as he handed her more ingredients. 

"Thank you, Sadie but I don't need that kinda help." He mumbled, still very rosey in the cheeks.

Later once they got in the truck, Uncle Mike told Jun about what had happened in the grocery store and Jun laughed so hard that he had to pull off to the side of the road. In fact when Sadie thought about it, she didn't think she had heard him laugh at all. 

She didn't even get what was so funny about it.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> * The term most commonly used in the 1970s referring to psychologists that would take in or even specialize in LGBT+ patients.

Despite Ye jun thinking it was the funniest thing he had ever heard, getting compared age-wise with a woman well into her fifties was salt poured on an open wound for Michael. He was thirty six and he was acutely aware of his baldness. Quite painfully in fact. 

He spent most of his morning staring in the bathroom mirror rather than getting dressed. 

Miss Esther had watched the both of them walk into the post office for their mail nearly every day for over seven years, and she never gave them any fuss over it so he was thankful that the scalding embarrassment was all he got from her. He was just thankful she hadn't tampered with their mail for being unabashedly homosexual men and breathing at the same time. 

Michael didn't bother mentioning to Ye jun about anything else Sadie had said in the church. Particularly because it was a topic best left for a third party member in mind. 

After their waffles with chocolate chips and cut strawberries for breakfast, and after they finished folding the baskets of laundry, Sadie was more than willing to ditch the both of them when Michael brought up the fact that they had an appointment. 

Once a month, for the past year now, they planned a visit with Dr. Alder. A short salt and peppered woman, who was slowly losing the fight with gravity and spoke almost less than Michael's partner. She was quite fond of naturalistic observation during their couple's therapy, which led Michael to believe that she found the method was best used on Ye jun, forcing him to take up some speaking space. 

When Michael first suggested that Ye jun saw a therapist, there was a lot of pushback at the idea, but Ye jun was nothing if not a people pleaser willing to grit his teeth over it in the end. Couples counseling was an even more tedious conversation, but it was something they eventually decided was something to look into. Michael poked around the campus until a couple of classmates pointed him in Dr. Alder's direction. 

It was a lucky stroke to find someone in the caucus web* at all, let alone someone willing to take on counseling on top of therapy and thus far Michael had few complaints.

Once they got into the office, they started with their usual greetings with Dr. Alder and sat down next to each other. The couch was an old gray thing, accumulating more lint by the second. But good for picking at if one was as on edge as Michael was when he was in therapy. 

"So how have you both been?" She sat down and picked up a butterscotch out of her guest bowl. It was enough to break Michael, for he had a hard time containing himself around butterscotches. 

Michael popped one into his mouth and patted Ye jun on the shoulder in case he had anything on his mind, but he merely shrugged. 

"Um we've been having some hiccups here and there but… I think we've been handling things okay, what do you think?" Michael tucked the butterscotch into his cheek. 

"I mean… we've been at it with what you said. With the communication thing. 'I' statements. Red light, green light. You know." Ye jun rolled his wrist. 

"Yeah, and I've been, you know, trying to listen more. Go on dates, make connections. Be present. I know I can bowl over ya when we're talking." Michael nodded briskly. 

"I'm glad to hear that you've been practicing with the tools I suggested. Now last month you mentioned the possibility of having Ye jun's daughter coming over to visit? How is that going?" Dr. Alder threw her butterscotch wrapper away in a small basket. 

"Well-" Michael cut Ye jun off, followed by an apology and a hot face, "-sorry you go." 

"Well she's here. We were worried it wasn't, um… gonna happen and now we have her for summer. It's been… difficult." 

Dr. Alder nodded patiently. Usually Michael thrived with someone he could racketball his thoughts off of, but as Ye jun's personal therapist it was a fairly good match. He didn't need two people talking over him. 

Michael patted his thigh. "And about that, Junebug, I meant to tell you. I mean, I thought it would be best to bring this up since the counseling was tomorrow. But Sadie and I had a talk. She's been snooping around in our room and saw things she wasn't supposed to." 

"Oh my god my charcoals!" Ye jun's eyes widened, as he gripped onto Michael's shoulder.

"No not that. She saw the pictures. That's how she knew about it. She really pulled a fast one on us." 

Ye jun's brows furrowed angrily. "Why do you do that?" 

Dr. Alder raised her hand. "Ye jun would you hold that thought? Do you think you can get me up to speed? What do you mean by that Michael?" 

Michael swallowed as Ye jun shoved himself into the couch, very much like a certain pre-teen Michael knew. "I mean, well Sadie's parents very early on decided to opt out of telling her about Ye jun. She must have put two and two together. She's a little too bright for her own good."

"And I assume it's a concern for the both of you? Ye jun you've spoken to me before about the divorce and the...precarious situation with your ex wife, would you like to talk about that?" 

Ye jun glared at Michael seeming to have leaped back onto his original thought at its first chance of opening. "You hide things from me. You had all day yesterday to talk to me about it. I don't know why you do that." 

Michael scowled. "What the hell happened to working on 'I' statements all the sudden?" 

"Do you want to try to rephrase your words? The both of you?" Dr. Alder folded up her hands on her lap. 

"Huuh. Okay," Michael pinched the bridge of his nose. "I knew that we've been worried about Eun ae pulling the plug on Sadie's visit. And I knew that you've… I mean I feel like you've been sensitive about it. I wanted to talk about it in therapy so we can keep our cool." 

"Because I'm too sensitive right?" Ye jun shot a dirty look at Michael. 

Dr. Alder simply leaned back in her chair, her eyebrow tweaked as though she expected Ye jun to check himself. 

"I feel… like you act like you know everything. And you know better than me or my 'sensitive' feelings. And I feel like you decide that I can't handle stuff." Ye jun puffed from under his moustache. 

"I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I just… I know I don't think about feelings enough. I just want the solution. I'm doing my best. I told you that I'll support you and I meant it." 

"Well I don't feel supported." 

"Well for god's sake what do you want me to do here? Do you want me to hold your hand for you?" Michael snapped. 

"Michael please. Listen to what he's saying. Really listen," she stepped in, eyes locked on his from over her broad glasses, "I'm hearing a lot of promises and talking about support but they have to be followed by actions. Do you think you've been supportive? Can you think of a reason why your partner isn't feeling supported right now? Speculate for a moment and try to come up with a reason before we get an answer from Ye jun." 

"That's just it, I don't know. Every time you've been unsure of this I've been there. I've been there for the crying and the panic attacks. And you just shut down on me! You tell me you need me to be there for you then you don't tell me how to do it. I'm just winding up in circles worrying about how I'm gonna tread on your shoes, you know how much I hate it!" Michael threw his hands up, getting more upset as the silence from his partner lengthened. 

"Michael, take a couple of deep breaths," Dr. Alder ushered him gently, "Now Ye jun, would you say that Michael hasn't been there enough? Does he do the things he claims he's been doing to be supportive?" 

Ye jun merely grunted. It was that indignant grunt he used when he would shoulder Michael off. He was used to rolling his eyes when it happened, but that time it just hurt. 

"Ye jun, this is the part that we've been talking about working on. You can't put up blockers whenever you feel defensive. You need to bring those walls down so you don't shut everyone out." She ushered again. 

"Well tell him that." Ye jun snorted. 

Michael felt a twitch in his cheek. What an unbelievable tool. 

Dr Alder frowned disapprovingly. "That's not helpful, and you're not just making things worse for yourself with that attitude. Look at him. Michael is verbally telling you that he's willing to connect. You owe him just as much labor as he's putting out, even if it's slightly misguided. Maybe it wouldn't be as misguided if you were being more open and honest about your needs."

Ye jun looked at Michael for a moment, still frowning, but more tentative than before. He took a deep breath. "I'm… mad. Because… um… I'm losing it." 

"That's okay. Take your time. It's okay to say what you're thinking right now," she assured him. 

"I feel… mad. Because she talked to you about it. And I'm still somehow the bad guy. I still get in trouble for it." Ye jun sighed deeply. 

"I'm trying to give the two of you space. I'm putting in the hard work and bossing her around so you don't have to. I'm talking to her and when we figure out what to do about her disobeying rules I'm gonna be the one who's gotta punish her, we agreed on this." Michael chopped at his hand. 

"Yeah and she'd rather talk to you than me!" Ye jun snapped at him. 

Michael blinked at him a few times. "How is that my fault?" 

Ye jun didn't respond, simply looking at the wall clock instead.

Michael scrubbed the back of his neck angrily. "...Maybe we should pull the plug." 

Ye jun's eyes widened with a startled expression. "How can you say that to me!? I needed you for this and I've waited so long, how can you say that!?" 

Dr. Alder raised her hands again to get them to stop. "Okay, okay Let's take a moment to think before we speak. Michael, I'm going to say what I'm seeing honestly. I'm not attacking you when I say that it seems very much like you're confusing support as a fail safe to fall back on rather than as a gentle push towards a common goal. I've noticed that this is a common pattern. A common theme in your arguments and your relationship overall. Would I be correct in that observation?" 

Ye jun turned away from him on the couch, sobbing as discreetly as possible, as she handed him a tissue. 

Michael thought for a moment before muttering a half hearted "Yes." 

"Would you die if you removed a fail safe from your life?" She asked him with a soft tone. 

"Yes." He replied very matter of factly. 

"Can you truly and literally say that you will stop dead as a doornail in your tracks? Or do you just feel that way?" 

Michael inhaled to retort but paused. His eyebrows twisted up over the thought. "I...don't know." 

"How do you think that makes your partner feel?" 

"Like… like I'm waiting for you to fail… I'm sorry. Ye jun. I just… I-I keep waiting for you to somehow wake up and realize that Eun ae is gonna keep stringing you along. I get so frustrated that sometimes I wanna shake you until you get it through your head." Michael placed a hand on Ye jun's shoulder. 

Ye jun blew his nose, his voice woeful and tense. "I know. I need you right now though. Michael I'm scared I'm gonna have to do it all over again I can't go back to that. I'm not strong enough." 

"Don't you think I'm scared too baby? I lost her too. You're not the only one who missed out." Michael's anger began to simmer a bit. It didn't matter how many times Ye jun cried, he never felt good being the cause of it. 

Ye jun blinked at him. As though the thought never occurred to him. "I made it about me again… didn't I? Ugh why do I screw things up!?"

" Ye jun, kindness." She murmured to him. Almost immediately, he relaxed. Michael wondered if it was his place to ask about what it meant to him. 

"Junebug, I don't want to pull the plug. I just don't want you to get blamed for things that you can't control. Maybe if we wait a little longer things will be different. Or maybe the timing is wrong or something." 

"When we're not so screwed up?" Ye jun chuckled dryly. 

"Well, I don't think it's completely hopeless." Michael gestured to the room they were sitting in. 

"It's not hopeless. You're right. You've both been working hard on thoughtfulness and practicing on healthy communication and listening skills. Having a child in your possession, and bringing up old pains that nobody wants to volunteer to shoulder that immense weight of can put huge strain on how we conduct our own lives, and shape the lives around us." 

Michael patted Ye jun's shoulder proudly. "You know that mountain we've talked about before? I think we've got over the largest hump already. I've got a good feeling about it. Do you got a good feeling about it bud?" 

"Hah, it doesn't feel good right now but… We've been arguing less, so." Ye jun sniffled. 

"Well that's excellent to hear. Now, for your homework. Ye jun." 

"Hm?" Ye jun blew his nose again. 

"It seems like Michael has been shouldering a lot of the more negative responsibilities with Sadie, but it also means there are less responsibilities for you to take up, positive or negative. Once you agree on an appropriate punishment, I want to see to it that you are taking charge of your child's needs. You'll feel you'll have more control of the situation, and breaking down those invisible walls will start to feel easier once you start practicing it more with her." 

Ye jun straightened up and nodded with a sense of alertness, as though the challenge was something he would start looking forward to. He seemed so determined all the sudden. 

"Oof, I guess that leaves me." Michael muttered jokingly. 

"Now for you Michael. I want you to remove a fail safe. It doesn't have to be forever, and it doesn't have to be all of them at once. But the next time you start to clench up," she clenched her fist as if to punctuate herself, "and feeling like you might die, that's when you need to take a breath. And let go. Allow yourself that, even if it's in private. Start practicing. And before you know it, you'll start to realize that you didn't die." 

Unsurprisingly, Michael didn't get any determined feelings about his homework assignment at all. 

Once they checked out, they walked back in the truck, both looking very much like they had been hit by a train a few times over despite the session only lasting a grand total of 47 minutes. 

How could such a small and frail blue-hair utterly decimate the sense of security that Michael had so meticulously planned for the last thirty six years of his life he'd never know.


	18. Chapter 18

"You're grounded. For Ten days. No going outside. No TV." Jun crossed his arms and stared Sadie down. She only came back to make herself a pb&j before going back outside to hang out with the Meathooks. Katelyn finally got her bike fixed, and when one of the Meathooks were down, all of them walked. 

What she came home to was a very cross looking man sitting in the living room recliner. Waiting to pounce. 

"That's totally not fair! I said I was sorry!" Sadie stomped her foot. This was her summer vacation. And she had to deal with these sour old men on top of it. There was no way in hell she was gonna spend ten days cooped up in that musty old house.

Uncle Mike sat on the love seat and watched with passing glances as he did a poor job learning how to knit. 

"You broke a rule. You get punished. No more discussion." Jun swiped his arm. 

She stammered. "But-" 

"Eleven if you keep it up." Jun waggled a crooked finger dismissively. 

"But my friends are waiting outside!"

"You go tell your friends to hightail home before It's too dark. But that's it. No more argue." 

"Hurgh! Fine!" She threw her little bag onto the floor. It's not like it was going anywhere. She stormed off head first to go tell them the news. Slamming the screen door shut, she stomped up to her friends waiting by the white wood gate. 

The bright blue sky was starting to grow dim enough for the trees and buildings to become deep blue blobs.The lights on the inside of the neighbor's houses were starting to turn on one by one. 

"Dude that took forever are you coming or what?" Jake looked up with a bored expression as he leaned forward on the fencing. 

"No, sorry. Apparently I'm grounded. Chores or something stupid." Sadie lied. 

"Well that's a bummer. How long you in for?" Katelyn pouted. 

"Ten days. Maybe eleven." 

"Do you need us to bust you out?" Max spat into the dirt. 

Sadie sighed loudly. "No, I'm in enough trouble already. I'll see you guys around I guess." 

Katelyn gave her a bear hug from over the fence. "Maybe when you get out of the hole we can have a sleepover." 

"That sounds cool…" Sadie mumbled half heartedly. Ten days was a long time. She was worried they'd lose interest in her by that point. 

"See you later Sadie. Call us if you change your mind." Max tipped her baseball cap at her and jumped on her bike. One by one, they left her in the dust. 

Now it was just her and the windows glowing in the early twilight. Alone. Friendless. Dead inside. 

With her head slumped down, she tugged gently at Oscar's tail as he whisked past her in the tall grass. Usually when he was let outside he'd do a couple of laps around the property before dinner time to get his 'whirlies out' out as Mike put it. Pretty soon she would devolve into joining him once the slow descent into madness took hold of her. 

She came back inside and slammed the door shut again, making both of the old men nearly bounce out of their seats. She laid down in the kitchen and oozed on the floor. 

"Now we talked about the dramatic oozing on the floor little Missy." Uncle Mike tutted as he rolled in. He began rummaging through the drawer under the oven. 

"Well It's not like I have anything better to do." She squeezed her eyes closed so she wouldn't have to look at Jun as he lumbered in. 

"Well then, in that case ooze out of the walkway. I don't wanna hear complaining if I accidentally run over your fingers." 

She shuffled her way over to the wall where Oscar's bed basket was. It smelled like dog feet. "Can we have chicken nuggets for dinner?" 

"Do you want chicken nuggets? We can get some at the store next time we go and I can teach you how to heat them up for lunches." 

Jun started washing some utensils and muttering something under his breath. 

"What about for dinner?" She grumbled. 

"Well we're making manduguk for supper." Mike replied gently. 

"Gesundheit." 

Jun muttered again as he started chopping up veggies. "It's what we're eating." 

She kicked off her shoes. "Not dinner tonight. But like...tomorrow maybe?" 

"Well I like to cook things we all can eat for supper. Lunch maybe, but not supper. I'm a vegetarian dear. I don't eat meat." 

"Dinner." Jun groaned with annoyance. 

Sadie frowned. "Dad says that vegetarians are sissies." 

"Every meal you've eaten since you've been here has been vegetarian darlin'." Michael got up out of his chair with shaky legs, propping himself with the help of the counter top. 

It got a chuckle out of Jun. 

Sadie thought about it for a moment with her mind blown. She gasped when she realized he was right. "Pancakes are vegetarian!?" 

"Yup. Now if you want meat on the menu next time, I'm sure you can talk to our good kindly neighborhood Ye jun to cook you something for supper. If you ask polite that is." Michael nudged Jun's shoulder and chuckled. He handed him some flour and a bowl. 

"It's dinner." Jun growled, hardly being able to feign his anger. He nudged him back as he started rolling some dough.

"Hoo-oey. It's nearly suppertime! Golly I'm excited." Mike jostled his shoulders, grinning ear to ear. 

"Hick!" Jun slammed his fist on the cutting board. His lips twisted up like an angry frog trying not to croak. 

They both busted out with laughter, leaving Sadie to sit there in a state of baffling confusion. She had no idea what was going on. 

"I prefer hillbilly, you know that. Gotta love that sweet Dixon honey." 

"Ugh barf." Jun rolled his eyes. 

"Now how does that Nashville sound go again? Good Lord I don't think I can recall…" Uncle Mike batted his eyes rapidly before picking up, ignoring Jun's loud sigh, "Oh yeah now I remember. Sometimes it's hard to be a woman-" 

Jun covered his face and chuffled as Uncle Mike started belting a song. Sadie was honestly surprised he could sing at all. He was a little weak but not in a way that made it insufferable. 

"-Come on Junebug you know the song; Giving all your love to just one man. You'll have bad times. And he'll have good times, doin' things that you don't understand." 

"I'd rather die." Jun did his best to ignore him as he went on, trying to flatten the dough before Mike tugged him away in his dumb little dance. It was barely a dance and it was downright embarrassing to watch. Sadie felt bad for Jun. 

But watching them do a dumb little dance together was somehow familiar to her. It was like something she might have seen her own parents do in her kitchen at home. 

But there they were, swaying their hips and tucking their arms into an invisible protective 'near the stove' box. Snapping their fingers. It was weird enough a feeling that she had to look away from them. 

"But if you love him you'll forgive him, even though he's hard to understand. And if you love him oh be proud of him,'Cause after all he's just a man. Stand by your man-" Uncle Mike started singing poorly on purpose on his last few notes before Jun put a palm to his face, purposefully smudging flour on the lenses of his glasses.

Jun stuck his tongue out and filled his dough with chopped vegetables. "Leave the singing to Tammy Wynette." 

"You like my singing." Mike snickered. 

"You guys dance lame." Sadie murmured, doing her best to avoid looking at the hot mess going on in front of her. 

They both looked at her, a little startled, like they had forgotten she was even in the room for a moment. Mike cleared his throat as Jun turned back around, quite red in the face. 

"You know not everything in the world revolves around being cool. It's okay to be lame once in a while," Uncle Mike concluded, "now go wash up before we start cooking." 

She rolled her head forward and got off the ground, dusting the dog hair off her pants. She stood up and swung her weight around the door frame and pulled out to the hallway. 

She washed her hands as quickly as possible, hoping they wouldn't notice the dirt under her nails. Usually she could get away with it better when she had them painted but her polish had all chipped off finally. She missed her nail polish collection at home. She had five colors in total, although she used to have six before leaving a cap off by accident. 

Sadie walked back into the hallway and into the kitchen, but she stopped dead in her tracks. 

Mike had pulled away quickly, doing his best to busy himself with the stove, almost quick enough to make Sadie second guess what she had just witnessed. But what she saw was definitely real. 

They were kissing. 

She could barely see their lips from under those thick moustaches pushed up against one another like a couple of walruses sucking on either half of a fish, but they were definitely kissing. They were breathing loudly through their noses as though their moustaches were suffocating them, Mike's shoulders obscuring it enough that she did a double take. 

Jun fumbled as he whisked himself back around to look like he had been working the whole time, but his recovery wasn't as seamless as Mike's. 

"Okay, so the mandu needs a little time to simmer, it's gonna take a little bit. How about you set the table." Mike continued on as though nothing had happened at all. 

Uncle Mike was even slicker than Sadie.   
Sadie set the table quietly, trying her best to act like nothing weird happened at all. But she couldn't shake the new norm. Mike was a good liar. It made her wonder how many times he had lied to her before. She was beginning to understand why she was in trouble for snooping. 

After the table was set, bowls and silverware in place, she sat down quietly, trying to pretend she was totally fine. Which she was not. 

Mike started gabbing again but this time she was struggling to pay attention even though she desperately wanted to. Jun on the other hand was red in the face and shaky in the hands. She knew that he knew that the can of worms couldn't be unopened. 

Jun, her father, kissed a man. As she thought about it more and more, she started to realize that Uncle Mike didn't have his own bedroom. There was only one bed when she snuck in. They did everything together. They went to see movies and eat together. 

She suddenly didn't feel like eating. 

After a little while, Mike put a pot on the table, holding an oven mitt underneath to keep it from touching the table. He dipped a ladle in and poured it into the three bowls in their respective seats. Fat steamy dumplings slipped in along with broth. 

"These look like my mom's dumplings." She furrowed her brows in thought as she picked one up with a spoon. 

"The dish is called manduguk. It's Korean dish." Jun cleared his throat and plopped down in his chair. 

"Mom just calls them dumplings." She let it slip back into her bowl. Normally she loved the meal when her mom cooked. But her head was buzzing too loudly to be excited about tasting the difference between her mother's dumplings and her father's. 

"What matters is it tastes good. I'm hungry so I'm just gonna start eating this time if that's okay with everyone," Mike put a dumpling in his mouth, making small hums of enjoyment, "Now that's, that's good. I think it's getting better each time we give it a try. What do you think Ye jun?" 

Jun simply grunted in agreement and pushed his food around a bit. 

They sat in silence for a moment, or at least near-silence since Oscar was busy barking his head off about something outside. Sadie rose her shoulders and winced. "Are we just gonna pretend nothing happened or…"

"Yes we are darlin'," Mike replied gently, "now hurry up and eat before it gets too soggy." 

Sadie sat quietly for a bit, blowing on her dumplings one by one before putting them back in her soup. She ate only some of her meal as everyone sat at the table tensely. 

"Is that why Mom's mad at you?" She rubbed her arm nervously. 

Jun and Mike exchanged a weird little glance. Then Jun closed his eyes and let out a little sigh. He patted Mike's shoulder a bit. 

Mike put his spoon down and took his glasses off. "Do you wanna hear the rest of the story Sadie?" 

Sadie nodded quietly. 

"Okay."


	19. Chapter 19

July 13th, 1970 

The first time Michael slipped back into consciousness it only stuck long enough for him to shovel down the food that was pushed in front of his face. He wouldn't be able to recall who's hands were feeding him or what it was that he ate. The second time he awoke, he batted his eyes in confusion. He was in a large tent from what he could tell. Turning his head to the side, he saw what looked like a couple of GIs playing a game of cards on an upturned crate. 

As many times as he blinked he couldn't get his eyes to focus to his normal fuzzy astigmatic state. He closed them just to give his mind a break from the swirling imagery. He groaned as the need to vomit started taking hold of the back of his throat. The grunts started clucking amongst each other excitedly. 

"Hey look Flyboy's finally budging!" 

"Evening sleeping beauty! Hey Lumps, He's up!" A man spoke with a heavy southern accent. Possibly Arkansas. 

"Clark stop being fucking useless and go get Sarge." 

As the loud buzzing in Michael's ears started to build up, he finally leaned over the edge of his cot and vomited all over the floor. 

"Hey, come on dude, you could have warned us!" One of them complained.

He closed his eyes and laid back down. Over the buzzing of a thousand cicadas in his head he could hear people approach him. One of them was grumbling about finding a dustpan to shovel up the vomit. The other one sort of hovered too close for comfort. 

"Here drink up. You probably need some water. It gets too hot in here," the guy leaned over him and placed a water bottle by his hip. 

Michael felt around and pulled the cap off and took some dainty sips. "How long have I been out?" 

"It's about 19:00, the thirteenth of July, you've been in and out for about two and a half days. You were up maybe for about twenty minutes once, do you remember that?" 

"Not really." Michael's brows furrowed as he opened his eyes again. He looked at the guy standing in front of him, a tall black man with a natural serious expression. If Michael considered himself a string bean then this guy was a spaghetti noodle, a good three of four inches over him and limbs long enough to reach across the room in a step or two. 

"Staff Sgt. Kennedy wanted you to come get him whenever you're ready. You've been out there since that caribou went down huh?" 

Michael nodded distractedly. His brains felt like a fine paste threatening to leak out of any orifice he left casually laying open. "Yeah. Did anybody get sent out there?" 

Before Flag Pole could answer, a familiar face walked into the tent. Well not face, exactly but the stout physique that Michael had only interacted with for a few moments and come to know as Kennedy was recognizable enough.

"Well hi there Birdie. Feelin better? Get enough rest?" Kennedy put his hands on his hips in a more gestured way than a natural placement. It made Michael tense up despite the plausible sincerity in the guy's voice.

"Yes sir." He replied more tentatively than he expected to be. 

"That's good to hear. You got a name?" 

"Rivett sir. 834th...um. Loadmaster," he mumbled. 

"Cargo jockey. Okay. Well we've got ourselves in a bit of a pickle here. Seeing how," Kennedy gestured to the tent they were in, "this ain't no air base. And you ain't got no air crew. So we're gonna go have a chat with Lt. Gilbert about it. Can you walk son?" 

"I think so." Michael sat up, trying to get his footing, but his legs felt like jelly. 

"Okay when's the last time you've had something to eat?"

Michael simply pointed at the pile of vomit on the floor. 

"Haha, suppose not. You like peanut butter cups?" Kennedy pulled a packet out of his back pocket and handed it to Michael. The peanut butter was harsh on his raw throat but it felt better once he downed it with water. 

Once Michael tried to walk again it was slightly easier to get his footing. He had spent so much time walking it was amazing that he had forgotten how to do it in a few short days. Sgt. Kennedy was truly a patient man. 

Outside of the tent he was surprised to see how small the camp was. There were maybe 30 tents in total, and the foot traffic was way less than he was used to. The camp set up seemed new somehow. Or makeshift even. It was darker out than he expected for 7:00 and clouds rolled overhead in dark sheets. Kennedy ushered him over to an office tent and ordered him to wait outside. 

Michael rubbed his scruffy beard, suddenly feeling quite anxious. It reminded him too much of waiting outside his Drill Sgt.'s office before being threatened to shape up. Perhaps he slept too long. After a little while Kennedy and two other soldiers he didn't recognize spilled out. Kennedy patted his back. "All right, go on in." 

He stepped inside, even more anxious that Kennedy didn't follow suit. There were empty seats and a long table. Lieutenant Gilbert, as Michael only hoped to assume, was slightly younger than he expected. Perhaps his early thirties. He had a slightly less imposing stature than any of the guys Mike had met in the last couple of minutes he had been conscious, but when he finally broke the silence and spoke, it was apparent that Michael was within good reason to be on edge. 

"Please sit," was all that Gilbert said for a good long time. He rubbed his thumb carefully over his lip as Michael tried to decide which seat was the least threatening one to take in an oval shaped meeting desk. Like the pussy Michael was. 

"I already made some calls. We got news of the C7 downing, and reported back. You were in 115 right?" Gilbert started thumbing through some notes on top of a filing cabinet. 

"Yes sir." Michael nodded. He wished that Lt. would just have sat his ass down. 

"Now, one of our infantry men, the one that you spent some time with. Ahn informed me that it was pretty much picked clean. Rivett right? Michael Rivett?"

"Yes sir." he confirmed, his attention flashed with interest about his GI friend, although he was uncertain if it was the time or place to inquire about it. 

"I'm sorry about your crew," he shook his head solemnly. 

"Thank you sir. I've had… a little time to process it," he grumbled. It was only partially true. He had barely known his crew members, but that thought stung almost as much as if he were close to them. Knowing that he should have been more bent out of shape about it forced a wave of guilt to ripple through him. 

"Hm. now while we're on that subject, Rivett," Lt. Gilbert finally stopped his sub-focus on his notes and addressed him directly, "While I was trying to get in touch with your chain of command, I had an interesting chat with your Staff Sergeant, who had some, to say it in the most polite way, opinions about you… Mind explaining why?"

"I wouldn't know sir. I've been on best behavior for Sgt. Cook since I was put under. If he held up on my Drill Sgt's personal bias, I can't say, but evidence based since then suggests it's unfounded." Michael licked his lips. 

"Sounds...very much like that answer of yours is rehearsed," Lt. Gilbert sat down and folded his hands under his chin attentively, "I didn't ask for that now did I? Mind trying that again?" 

Michael turned his gaze to the desktop. "With all due respect sir, I've been unconscious for almost three days. It's a little fuzzy around the edges." 

Gilbert tsked at him degradingly. "Well, maybe you need a little memory jog then," he flipped his notes open, "stated, and I quote 'Deliberately refuses orders. Rivett has claimed that he is: not excited about jacking off to the idea of using teenager's bodies as sandbags to build a wall against [the] imaginary Red Communist threat. And stated so publicly. Utter disregard towards his chain of command. Never met such a worthless sack if shit, we would rather have the hull back if we had to choose. Not in any rush to return him. Do what you see fit,' end quote. Need I go on?" 

Michael swallowed hard. "I don't think it's necessary sir." 

"Looks like I got a big heaping mess dropped into my lap for the time being. So we're gonna discuss what to do with you now." 

Michael didn't respond. Something about the tone in Gilbert's voice signaled his fight or flight response something fearsome. Perhaps it was his inability to detect anything genuinely condescending in it despite his word selection. Or maybe it was because it was too quiet in the tent. Like he was going to snap and start barking orders in Mike's face. Stomp a heel on his throat. 

Lt. Gilbert tapped the table with an open palm. "Look me in the eye boy." 

Michael locked eyes with him, expecting to be met with some sort of power struggle. Except it wasn't. Gilbert looked over every inch of him, his brows wrinkled in deep thought. Michael hummed to start a sentence but he was cut off. 

"Who let you in?" He inquired. 

"I'm sorry sir?" Michael winced. The staring was starting to make him uncomfortable. 

"Who signed you off? Do you remember the name of your recruiter?" 

"I can't say I do." Michael swallowed. 

"Well he did a piss poor job," Gilbert finally broke away, "when you do this job long enough you can tell when someone ain't right in the head. Which ones are going to lose their shit, and which ones are fixing to make others lose their shit. So the question is which are you?" 

Michael blinked for a moment. "I… I don't know sir. I'm not really lookin for a fight." 

"Is that why you pull this whole holier-than-thou routine? Don't like the idea that there's something violent and nasty in there?" 

Michael frowned and looked back at the table not knowing how to respond. Oddly enough it hit him in a tender spot. Michael didn't want to mull over the idea that there was indeed something lurking in his head that he couldn't fight off forever. It was the hot spoon carving into his skull all over again. 

Lt. Gilbert rubbed his temples and sighed heavily. "I'm gonna stoop to you once. And only once. These boys are afraid, and it won't take much to push them over the edge and make them lose their heads. The last thing I need right now is someone instigating political opinions even though it's out of everyone's hands right now. I don't give a shit if you think you're right. It won't matter, because people will die, and it's my job to make sure that doesn't happen. So, in that case, I need a reason why I shouldn't take you out back and shoot you." 

Michael tensed up. Even from his blurry expression he could see that Gilbert wasn't fucking around. 

Michael racked his brains for a few moments to think of a good answer. Beg for his life, or lack thereof. He thought about Ahn and how much shit they were put through just for him to fuck it up and blow that boy to bits. How fucking useless he was in keeping his friend from getting sick and how much of a deadweight he had been to everyone his entire life. He thought about Ahn crying, missing his mother and his meek desperation to go back home. 

Maybe he really was just a worthless sack of shit waiting around for someone to cut off his windpipe like he deserved. 

"Honestly sir I...can't think of one." Michael felt himself disintegrate into less than the sum of his parts. He didn't know how long he had been performing the menial tasks of scooping it back together to form a shape and convince everyone he knew that there was a person inside there. 

"You're really not selling yourself well. If you're as worthless as you think you are then maybe throwing yourself in front of a bullet might be the best thing you've ever done." Gilbert lit a cigar. He offered Michael one. Michael decided if he wasn't going to last long then he'd at least be polite. After being offered a light he took a long exhausted drag. 

"Now I'm treating you special because I'm hoping this is gonna get to you somehow. Seeing how basic didn't beat anything into you. And putting you on a simple job didn't work out. I'm throwing you a rope is what I'm doing honestly. If you manage to fuck that up then I don't know what to say." Gilbert's eyes dulled. 

"Should I be thanking you for your kindness?" Michael chuckled dryly. 

"It's not kindness. But I will cut you a deal. You stay out of the way. Keep your head down. Do as you're told. And I'll leave you alone." 

Michael nodded quietly, taking a few puffs. "I don't wanna be deadweight anymore. I'm not a fighter. But I don't wanna be deadweight." 

"Think you can do custodial work?" Gilbert dashed the ashes off his cigar. 

"Yeah I'll huck shit for ya if that means I'm helping somehow. Just don't make me hold a gun." Michael handed the rest of his back to Gilbert. 

"Honestly I'd trust a chimp with a rifle first. Now that we're on agreement I don't wanna have to deal with your ass for a long fucking time. Go take a shower. Get some rest. You'll start your work tomorrow." 

"Yes sir." Michael stood up and saluted him half heartedly. 

"And Rivett," he stopped Michael from leaving, "don't ever do that shit in front of me again or I'm going to break you like a dog. I'm your superior now act like it." 

Michael nodded before he was dismissed with a tired wave. It didn't make him feel any better that Gilbert sunk to his level. In fact he was fairly certain it had a tactical purpose to relate to him. They were far from friends and he was more than aware of it. 

As much as he hated admitting it to himself, Lieutenant Gilbert could see right through him and would always be one step ahead. It was out of Michael's leauge to fuck with someone smarter than him. 

Once he got in the shower Michael burst into violent tears. He had forgotten how good it felt to be clean. Baptism couldn't be more spiritually awakening than the feeling of removing a month's worth of jungle ass from snatched skin. 

He sucked up his sobbing before he got out so no one would notice he was crying. As he shaved in the world's smallest mirror, his hands shook. He was thoroughly rattled. 

He was afraid of being a waste of space for the rest of his life.


	20. Chapter 20

July 14th, 1970 

Once Michael was well-fed and dressed for the day, he followed Kennedy around, listening intently to his new duties. He got to discover the joys of straddle trenches, digging them, burying them, and relocating the stalls. And begrudgingly learning how many times a day the average turn over was. Three. Same as meals. 

Kennedy seemed to be in the good spirits about taking his new "piss boy" under his wing. Michael simply gritted his teeth and did his best to pay attention. He always assumed he'd devolve to ditch digging sooner or later but he would much rather have done it later. 

After he was given the rundown he was shown around to the water supply, and how often he'd need to fix the shower pumps. Which was apparently a constant losing battle that was worthy of a groan from anyone in earshot. 

The longer Kennedy prattled on the more enthralled Michael became with trying to pinpoint his accent. It eluded him in a way that was going to bother him until he got it down. By the time Kennedy was ready to move onto the next subject it was about time for lunch. 

Around the bustling of the lunch rush, Kennedy tossed him an MRE and walked him to the flag pole that he had met earlier. 

"All right this is the part where you should know if you've ever eaten before. First come first serve. You get to sit with Squad 6, lucky you. You will share your meals with Squad 6, 8, and 12 and they will be content about it. Now, if you have further questions you can look to Squad Leader Johnson. He will be delighted to answer won't he?" 

Johnson gave a little look of distain before answering. "If that's how you want me to feel then I have no choice but to be delighted sir." 

"Now he's a bit of a tightwad so I'm sure you'll get along swimmingly. Or at least Lieutenant Gilbert seems to think so. Best behavior now." Kennedy patted Michael on the back hard enough to knock the wind out of his chest. Afterwards he shooed Michael off as if he was supposed to go play with his new friends.

Already the boys were beginning to chuckle. No. Chucking wasn't the right word, more like gossip if it wasn't the wrong word to describe a bunch of grown men. 

Michael decided to sit a bit away from them, uncertain of how he felt about the amount of attention he was getting. It was as though everything was moving too fast. Almost immediately after he opened his packet a light blond man with wispy hair groomed forward and a round pink face sat next to him. 

"I'm Clark. Can I have your bread loaf if you got any?" He said slowly. 

"Sure thing Arkie." Mike blinked at him and slid him his bread.

"How'd you know I was from Arkansas?" He asked despite his thick Arkansas accent. 

"It's because you looked like your parents were cousins," one of the boys called out. Some of the others whooped. This was gonna be a long day. 

Michael felt his cheek twitch a bit.

"So you got a name there boy?" 

"Mike Rivett. At least that's what it says on the tags." Michael rasped without pressing actual humor behind it. He could have done better. 

"Well you had three sets of tags on you. I checked in your sleep." A shorter man with dark hair replied almost too cheerfully. Almost as soon as he spoke nearly everyone turned their head and shouted "shut up Tomtom."

"Everyone give him some fucking air. He's been out there for a while." Johnson growled at them. Michael suddenly felt relieved that they were quiet for a moment. But it didn't last long before they started screwing around again. 

Michael covered his ears for a minute before his senses came to him. He meant to ask about it earlier but he hadn't had a chance yet. "Wait. Um. What about Ahn? Did they send him home? Is he…" 

"No they didn't send him home," Tomtom (apparently) shook his head, "he's recovering in med bay. He's all right."

"Yeah Lt.'s been having a field day with that one. Ahn's had a good bit of company since he's been here," one of the boys in a tank top added.

"Is he allowed to have visitors?" Michael blinked, honestly getting tired of not being able to see. He checked his pockets until he found his broken glasses. His hands grazed on the extra dog tags. 

"I think so. You'll have to ask the medics. You need tape there bro?"

"I need to clean 'em first." Mike groaned and wiped his unbroken lense on his shirt. 

"Here," Clark pulled a roll out, "I keep them for warts." 

Mike looked at him for a moment. Gee.

"Thanks," he replied and started fixing his frame to a remotely passable shape. He did his best to block out the circus that Infantrymen pitched into if given a moment of space to do so. It was noisy. Loud. Kinda gay with how much they played grab-ass. 

"You should probably go check him out. Lunch only lasts about 30 minutes." Johnson responded before hoarking down nearly all the food in his MRE. Honestly it was a sight to behold. Like a pelican swallowing a seagull.

"I've been meaning to ask," Mike blew on the shattered lense to try to eject the dust without it falling to pieces, "how the hell did he get out there?" 

"We lost him somewhere along the treelines. They had mag trips lined around the bend. We hit a snag with the retrieval but we were gonna regroup and go get him. Thanks to you we didn't have to haul his ass out." Johnson lit a cigarette. 

"What kind of snag? I mean I remember you guys coming from the northwest. We were traveling around northeast, you wouldn't have found him that way." Mike scratched his head. 

"It's nothing you gotta worry about." Johnson wadded up his food wrappers and shoved them into his pouch. He wiped his hands off on his pants and walked out of the bench circle. 

Michael fiddled with the ear bends a little longer before putting his glasses on, immediately feeling the pressures of squinting for over a month melt away like pudding. He could finally see. Thank fucking Christ. 

He got up, finishing off his gross hamburger patty, but glad it was a step up from otter or rat meat, and headed to the medical bay. He stood outside, wondering if he should knock for a moment before deciding to go in anyhow. He looked at the med tech standing and eating his meal. There were six stretchers, and five of them were taken up by soldiers. One of them was moaning and rolling in pain as though he had weasels about to crawl out of his ass.

"H-hey," he introduced himself weakly. 

"Can I help you?" The medic put his sandwich down. Dusty Gray hair, brown eyes, chipped front tooth. Patch read 'Carter'. It was good to see details again. 

"No. Well yes. I wanted to check on Ahn?" Michael shrugged. 

"Oh, You're the one who pulled him out. He's fine. Back corner over there. He had toxic shock creeping up something fierce, honestly I just cleaned up his wound and pumped him full of penicillin. Only complaint is he's still thin but he's eating okay. He's resting but you can check on him if you like." 

"Er, thank you sir." Mike gently shimmied past Carter to the back where a familiar snore emanated from a sheeted lump. 

"Oh, Hey bud, wanted to check on ya. See how you're doing." Michael patted the lump's shoulder. Ahn rustled awake and rolled over. And that was the last time Michael could account for having any brain cells. 

For the first time, since they met, Michael could actually see his face. Ahn was clean shaven, at least until his sideburns, where they were trimmed off perhaps a bit too long for code. He had a soft oval shaped face with wide cheekbones that took up room where Mike would usually have spared for eyebags. His hair was dark and had a warm sheen to it. His eyes that were usually hard as coals if Michael really squinted to see were soft and faded into equally soft and straight eyelashes. 

Nobody told Michael that he was hot.

"Hey." Ahn replied casually, smiling as though he was happy to see a familiar face. 

"I'm uh… Hey," He choked on his dry throat, doing his best to pass it off as a chuckle, "How...you feeling bud? Had me a little worried there." 

Mike could feel any thought he originally had burn to a crisp in the hot atmosphere around his face. For over a month. A month, he had slept naked next to this beautiful man without ever knowing. He couldn't even process that information. All he could think about was how Ahn had slept with his knees crooked under Michaels bare thighs. 

"Doc says I need sleep. And food," Ahn mumbled tiredly, "still nauseous though." 

"I know. He told me. Not about the nausea thing tho… I got nauseous the other day. First thing I did when I woke up was puke." He bit the inside of his cheek because he couldn't slap himself really hard in a discrete manner. 

Ahn hummed softly and rolled back over to the wall. Even his back was pretty. "I told Lt. about you." 

"Yeah?" Michael over his shoulder with a sense that he was being watched.

"Said you talk too much. But you're good. Fast learner. And Doc said you did okay with patching me up so. Thanks." 

Michael felt his cheeks flush. While it didn't help that he was trying to catch himself mid-swoon, he wasn't expecting to be washed with compliments. "You said all that?" 

"Yeah well...I wouldn't be here you know?" Ahn shrugged. 

Michael rarely felt flummoxed, but if there was ever a time to use the word, it was then and there. He had spent so much of his time lamenting on never amounting to anything he never expected to have made it that far. Up to that point he assumed it was his former command's word against his. 

But Ahn had a say in his worth. And it counted more than Michael could fight against. 

With a wave of uncertainty, he decided to shoulder it off in his favor. "Well someone had to bring you home to your eomma." 

He watched Ahn's body clench up, the tips of his ears went red with embarrassment. 

He leaned closer and chuckled. "It's okay. I won't tell anyone you're a momma's boy. Secret's safe with me." 

His ears grew even redder and he cleared his throat before he spoke. 

"I take it back. I no try to say nice things with you anymore." 

After a little while of watching Ahn fall back into a comfortable doze, he got up and left. He looked at the bandaged men lying down, some of them in worse shape than Ahn. Weasel guy was still groaning in anguish. Michael wondered what it would have looked like if it had taken another day to get out of the jungle. Or if Ahn had gotten a hole put in him higher up. 

He didn't know if he would have even wanted to make it out if he didn't have Ahn just a few steps ahead of him. Or if Gilbert would have been willing to play nice at all if Ahn hadn't vouched for him prior. 

Then again what the fuck would Mike know? He was a janitor after all.


	21. Chapter 21

July 17th, 1970

MONTGOMERY   
EMMIT L.  
SSN   
AB POSITIVE   
BAPTIST 

GLASS   
VICTOR G.   
SSN   
O NEGATIVE   
PROTESTANT 

That's what the dog tags said at least. Michael flipped them through his fingers back and forth a few times, trying to burn them into his mind before handing them to Sgt. Kennedy. 

He had only spoken to Victor Glass long enough to help him load a couple of crates. He was tall and freakishly blonde and had a raspy voice. He knew Emmit Montgomery even less, save for his ungodly love of obsessively brushing his teeth. He used to do it every time he ate. Even if it was a bag of honey roasted peanuts. 

But now that he could put names to the body parts that he had left behind to sink beneath the mud, it started feeling like more than a bad dream for the first time. The plumes of smoke from that first night hanging upside down invaded his mind. The smell of gun powder turned to cooked flesh. Evaporating until that was all that was left of them. 

Stolen jewelry was for grave robbers and pawn shops. Not wives or mothers. 

Michael wanted nothing more than to shake those thoughts. And the only person that saw the month of fire the way he did was Ahn. After he finished patching up holes in the water pipeline, and installed toilet paper and barred soap, he took his lunch. The muggy heat in the camp made every breath feel like Michael was inhaling toilet water. He was glad to take a break from what would surely be septic shock of the lung later that evening. 

As he went from the remote location of the latrines to the med bay, he stopped himself a few yards out. Lt. Gilbert and Carter were having a serious conversation. They spoke amongst themselves with hushed tones and stern expressions. The thought crossed Mike's mind that maybe they had lost someone in the night, but no one looked in bad enough shape the last time he was in. Maybe he was wrong. 

After a moment or two of a brisk back and forth, Carter nodded and was dismissed, going back into the tent. 

Waiting to put some distance between himself and Lt. Gilbert, Michael ducked his head in again. Said the same bullshit to Carter as last time, and grabbed a folding chair so he could sit next to Ahn. He noted that one of the stretchers that was full yesterday was now empty. 

Ahn sat up and blinked tiredly, having just finished off a meal. "Hey." 

"Hey. How ya doing today bud?" He looked over at Carter before making sure he was out of earshot. Carter was more concerned with gathering paperwork and whatever else that was making him grimace. 

"I'm doing all right. I should be back on feet in three or four weeks." Ahn nudged a finished tray of food on the table by his bedside. 

"That's good, that's good… So… what was that all about?" he gestured to Carter and the conversation with Gilbert and clasped his palms together. 

"Oh um," Ahn paused, "Webber's going home… he's uh...he's not doing great." 

Michael chewed on his lip, not really knowing anyone named Webber enough to know how important it was. "Oh is he sick?"

Ahn squinted at Michael for a moment, scanning his face as though he were looking for something. Michael wasn't sure what. After a moment he let out a sigh. "Kind of." 

"Is Webber a friend of yours?" Mike leaned forward in his seat. 

"He's in my squad. Was." Ahn grumbled as he wringed the sheet covering his knees. 

"Is anyone else going home?" Mike scratched the back of his head. 

"No. Lt… didn't like the look of him." 

Michael inhaled wanting very much to pry again, but he quickly abandoned it upon watching Ahn wiggle in his seat anxiously. Something didn't sit right with it. 

He went back to his original plan. Michael was very rarely thrown off or 'flummoxed' in that particular manner, let alone from a pretty face. He had a score to settle. As self centered as a game of cat and mouse would be at that moment, it would at least serve as a change in the conversation that Ahn was so clearly trying to avoid. 

"So, we know each other from way back when. Ye right? Can I call you Ye?"

"Ye jun," he corrected Michael bluntly. 

Michael tilted his head, nervous he was treading on toes again. "What is that like a title or something?" 

"No? I fucked up registration. It's dumb." Ye jun mumbled and closed his eyes. 

"Sorry, no. It's… it's a good name." Michael nodded. He placed a palm on Ye jun's shoulder. He was interested in seeing if he would shy away.

Ye jun cleared his throat and glanced away, but he didn't wither from Michael's touch. "Your name?" 

"Michael. You can call me Mike though." 

Ye jun mouthed his name to give it a whirl. "Hm. You don't look like of a Michael." 

Mike's eyebrow tweaked. "Oh yeah? What do I look like then?" 

"Hm. I dunno. Maybe… Craig?" Ye jun winced. 

"A Craig!?" Michael busted out loud, "I pull you out of the jungle and carry you on my back and you tell me I look like a Craig? I've never been so insulted in all my life!" 

Ye jun snickered as Mike gave him a gentle shove. His lips parted in a smile that Mike's mind couldn't get over. It was infectious. Like a blight on Mike's reasoning. 

"Who pull who now?" he replied smugly. 

"Woah now. Careful momma's boy." 

Ye jun merely snorted and rolled his eyes. "Whatever." 

"So you got a family then? I know you love your momma," 

"Yeah. My eomma, appa, and noona is..is… god fucking-" he snapped his finger a couple of times, "girls… four girls." 

Michael squinted in confusion. Ye jun took a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"Hee young, Chung cha, Ji woo, Min, and me," he counted on his fingers. 

"Oh you mean sisters! Really there's five of you? Holy shit that's insane! No wait let me guess; you're the middle kid."

"No. I'm-I'm baby." Ye jun chuckled. 

"Oh so you're a baby now? A baby and a momma's boy?" 

"Shush now."

"So you guys are really close? You married? Kids?" Michael held back any sort of tentative thoughts about hearing the answer he didn't want. 

"Hm. No. Nothing like that." 

"Got a little sweet thang?" 

"Haha. No." he chuffed and rubbed the back of his neck. There was something about the way Ye jun looked away. Like the way he looked away when Mike asked about Webber. 

Before Mike could decide if he wanted to dive bomb him with more questions, Carter nudged past him. "Don't you have anything better to do with your time besides sitting around here all day?" 

Mike sat up from his seat a bit, but as Carter knelt down by Ye jun's cot, he found himself caught between Carter, the olive tent wall and the dense cabinet where Ye jun had placed his food tray. He was sort of sandwiched, knees tucked in and perched on his folding chair awkwardly. 

"I'm fairly sure your lunch is over what with you flapping your gums like a school girl." 

Ye jun snickered as Mike licked his lips. His smug attitude didn't last long after Carter unceremoniously yanked the sheet covering his knees away. Underneath were only bare thighs in tidy whities. As interested as Mike was in bare skin, the bandage was enough to ruin the good moment. 

Carter pulled off the tape holding his bandages to his thigh, tugging the cart he brought with him closer. Ye jun hissed. 

"H-how bad is it? I mean is it doing better?" Mike tried to make some sort of conversation out of it despite being cornered and uncomfortably close to Carter. 

"Could be better," he pulled back the gauze to reveal the shallow hole in Ye jun's thigh. It was less of a deep sickly red than it was before, and had more of a spongy texture to it. The skin around the wound was puckered and inflamed. 

Ye jun covered his eyes as though it were routine. A ripple of guilt went through Mike's veins. 

"There aren't any creepy crawlies in there buddy." Mike tried to assure him with a hint of a humorous tone. 

"I know." Ye jun mumbled. 

Carter tutted. "Actually the maggots can do a bit of good. Black fly larvae only eat necrotic flesh. It used to be an old practice. It's the other critters you don't want in a flesh wound. Botflies, dermestes larvae-" he continued to prattle on until Ye jun audibly gagged. 

"Just hurry up." Ye jun groaned. 

Carter pulled some tools out of their designated pocket spaces and started tweezing away. 

"What are you doing?" Mike tilted his head. 

"Bamboo's probably more nasty than the flies if I'm being honest. You're gonna be pulling out splinters for a good bit there pal." Carter nudged Ye jun, who refused to budge on his stance on peeking. 

"I wish I could have done more." Mike chewed on his lip anxiously. 

"Given what you had on hand, the patch up wasn't all that bad. Hold still." He put the tweezers down on the surgical tray and grabbed a syringe. 

"What are you doing now?" Mike leaned forward, brushing his shoulder up against Ye jun's elbow. 

"Well, see that puckered scabbing? It's getting too dry so it's gonna tear. Looks a little infected. We're gonna scrape off and see if we can get the healing nicer. Gotta be numb for that." 

Mike observed with interest as Carter jiggled the skin before poking through. "What's that for?" 

"What is this twenty questions? You're sucking up my air. I need you to move." Carter growled and adjusted himself to give Mike space to move out of the way. 

Mike wiggled out as daintily as possible. He had been fairly tall and gangly his whole life so poking across cramped rooms like a doe was something he had picked up quickly. He looked down at Carter, hunching over Ye jun's thigh and meticulously scraping away bits. "It's just…when we were out there I...I don't know I just was… standing there." 

Carter looked up at him, his lips twisting up in a funny little annoyed frown. "Well then don't just stand there, hand me that roll of gauze over there. He's bleeding more than I thought." 

Mike moved his hands with a start before fumbling over to where gauze might be. After spotting it he snatched up the roll and handed it to Carter. 

"Good thanks, now get out you're hogging my light." 

Mike scratched the back of his head and gave them a lazy wave. "Well I guess I'll check in tomorrow then. See you around Ye jun!" 

Ye jun briskly nodded, and Carter showed no sign of hearing him.

For the rest of the evening Mike couldn't get Ye jun's smile out of his head. The v shaped form it took and the way it made his cheekbones crinkle into his soft dark eyes. He wanted to see it again a thousand times over. 

And Michael was just the goofball to make it happen.


	22. Chapter 22

July 29th, 1970

It was starting to get ridiculous. 

Normally Michael enjoyed the game of pressing boundaries and watching a questionably homosexual man fall all over himself but at that point he had exausted his options. 

He was fairly certain that Ye jun swung that way. He was far from a hundred footer, but no doubt he wasn't heavily guarded from Michael's suggestive tone. Sometimes the ears going red were a good indicator, sometimes not. 

Often he would wait to place an innuendo while Ye jun was drinking water just to watch him choke. Track Ye jun's eyes to see where they wandered or lingered. Run a finger or two down the fabric of Ye jun's cot or blanket and pass it off as if it were an absent-minded fidget. 

Michael told him about his squad mates antics and lunch conversations when they weren't actively visiting. Sometimes Mike would opt out of checking on him if he wasn't alone. He still wasn't into the clamour. He was afraid he'd never be. 

One by one the folks that were held left the tent, most of them recovering from foot infections or sprained ankles. Some came in, but rarely stayed for more a  
than a few days. Between Ye jun's hole in his thigh, his battle with a fever off and on, and severe lack of weight, he was the only one stationary in the med bay for the time being. Eventually it was just him. 

Ye jun wasn't one for holding a conversation. He was quiet and often sifted through a mental hat for the right word to use. But he was good at listening to Mike talk. As much as Mike could have held the conversation up by himself, he didn't want to. After their conversations halted several dozens of times, Mike started growing impatient. 

Plunging from occasional accidental grazing, he began getting more helpful with Ye jun's hospice situation, so long as he didn't shy away from it. Grabbing things out of his reach for him and making certain it was no accident that Ye jun was watching him get out of his seat to look at his ass. 

He wouldn't blame him. Mike found himself to have a cute ass. 

He had practically laid out the bait and yet there was a deliberate hesitation. It puzzled Michael to no end. 

Were Ye jun closeted or at least unaware, he would have been more likey to buck against a touch he wasn't ready for. He would severely mind being doted on by a man who was two stone skips from a flamer. It wasn't like he wasn't making himself as obvious as deniably possible. 

Michael was running out of ideas short of straddling the poor man. He wasn't that desperate. 

Yet. 

Mike's favorite maneuver that he would have accounted for would be tucking a second pillow behind Ye jun's back. He leaned over him enough for his dog tags to brush up against Ye jun's chin. He listened with amusement as the poor boy's breath hitched in his throat. Mike asked if he was comfortable before retreating, having no idea that Ye jun could get that red in the face. 

Despite Mike ensuring him that he wouldn't bite, there was a little panicked look in Ye jun's eyes before they broke that contact, followed by an antsy shudder that visibly crawled up and down his body. 

Mike thought about it a lot. It was puzzling to say the least. Aggravating to say the most. He had finally run out of ways to come off as subliminal. 

Then the thought occurred to him: what if Ye jun was just plain old bad at flirting? Or worse yet, maybe he's never flirted before. 

There was obviously something holding Ye jun back. His career. His family. Maybe it was something he didn't want to act on. No, clearly that wasn't the problem at all. 

Mile found himself awake at night over it. It was getting progressively harder and harder to sleep. Usually at that point Michael would have drawn a line in the sand that he would never cross for someone unwilling to put in the effort. 

It bothered him to think about the fact that he might have been batting around a closeted man just for the sake of entertainment. He had done the cruising scene before. It wasn't something he'd want to put anyone through, let alone someone he might have even gone as far as to call a friend. 

He was willing to leave well enough alone if the bait was left untouched for much longer but it wasn't in Michael's nature to lose sleep over it. 

During his stay in the camp Mike was assigned the tent along with the squad he had been paired up under supervision. And the squad was paired with the platoon. The same one that Ye jun belonged to. 

There were over 50 men packed like sardines into the same tent with maybe a foot between each cot. It was hot and stuffy. The cot was stiff as a board and it squeaked every time Michael shifted. 

The quarters made the wrong sounds. He had spent so much time outdoors that it was uncomfortable to be around folks. He rarely thought much about it in the barracks during basic, but he would awaken with a start every time someone made their cot squeak. 

Maybe he was afraid of getting freezing water dumped on him, or have someone shout an inch from an ear to jolt him out of bed. Or maybe he was afraid that the people sleeping next to him were Charlie's makeshift camp with only a blanket's width between him and death. 

This time he had no hand of reassurance to squeeze but his own. The sounds of slumber orchestrated out of tune. Their breathing was uneven. Unharmonious snores competed amongst each other. Too high. Too low. Too loud. One guy's nose whistled most of the time. 

Michael found himself in the middle of the night with a head far too full for the subliminal. There was no room for it. He had convinced himself that the feeling was foreign to him, against his own grain, but it was a lie he had told himself before to bring him comfort as he would lay awake on his mattress in his van parked in some lot. 

It seemed sad and desperate. Like something that sounded like a good idea to invite someone in up until he would have taken a bite into someone's pec just to leave him and his van alone. Just sideways enough to remind him of that violent nasty thing that lived inside him and beaconed him to saunter aimlessly in a parking lot barefoot and spitting mouthful of blood at nothing. 

He pulled his pants and boots on, cursing at himself for crossing that line in the sand. He needed to feel real again. He needed someone to see that he wasn't just a subliminal refraction of a life gone wrong. He didn't want to feel alone and out of tune anymore. Worthless. 

No one questioned him leaving or where he was going. It wasn't uncommon for folks to slip out for smoke breaks or to get up to piss. 

He stumbled across the campsite towards the med bay tiredly. "Fuck this is stupid." 

As he pulled inside, Ye jun arose with a start. He stared at Michael hesitantly, but remained silent. Michael looked back, trying to solidify his form in near pitch blackness. After a little while, Michael walked up to Ye jun's cot and sat down on the foot of his bed. 

Ye jun sat almost frozen in time before breaking the silence. "What you doing?" 

"Can't sleep." Michael replied. He knew that this was the point that would decide whether or not he was overstepping his boundaries. But Ye jun said nothing for a long time. He simply watched Michael twiddle his thumbs.

"Thank you." 

"Hm?" Ye jun hummed, his voice sounding sympathetic. His expression was attentive and calm. 

"If it weren't for you I probably would've froze to death. Runnin' round like I was headless. And you put up with it. So...thank you." 

Ye jun sort of bobbed his head in agreement. As though he might have joked about it or poked fun in a different setting, but decided it appropriate to take Mike's gratitude at face value. 

Mike smiled softly, suddenly feeling awful silly speaking in earnest. "Heh. Kinda got used to your snoring." 

Ye jun's face flushed in dim light, but he didn't reply. Instead he pushed himself closer to the edge of the cot away from Michael and gently patted the empty spot. 

Michael swallowed hard. He took off his boots and pants with a loud jangle and tucked himself in. He was surprised to find himself having his chest pressed against Ye jun's back rather than the other way around. Ye jun nudged and bumped around awkwardly for a moment until they found a comfortable position. Michael rooted his nose and lips into Ye jun's thick crop of hair and tucked his hands under Ye jun's arms, wrapping around his chest. 

Ye jun ended up taking the majority of the pillow but it was new and the sleeping space was narrow so Michael accepted it. He felt the warmth of the man in his arms flare as Ye jun got into a breathing rhythm, suggesting he was lying there feeling like just as much of a flustered dunce as he did. In his chest, Michael's breath felt still. 

Eventually Ye jun started up a familiar and comforting snore. The one that let him know there was nothing to worry about.   
Michael would have traded it for food or water or kindling or any valuable object he'd ever owned for it. 

Michael took in an indulgent inhale to preserve the smell of Ye jun's hair before finally lulling to the first deep sleep he's had in a long time. It felt almost cruel that it felt like it only lasted a few minutes before the Reveille bugle sounded for morning routine.

With a start Michael started rolling out of bed. Both of them shouted "I'm late!" in sync, having nearly both died of a heart attack at the same time. 

"Not you, you've got a staph infection remember?" Michael draped his arm over the side of the cot and leaned over Ye jun. 

Ye jun chuckled and leaned his head back. "Heh, heh. Yeah." 

Mike sat up and grabbed at his pants on the floor. "Gotta go before Lt. kills me." 

Ye jun laid most of his weight down on Mike's back and let out a pitiful whine. "Nooooo…." 

He wrapped his arms around Mike's neck, making it very hard for him to stand up. "Come on. Let go." 

"Nooooo!" Ye jun took a much more demanding stance and nuzzled his face into the crook of Mike's neck. 

Mike chuckled over the ridiculous display. "Stop being such a brat!" 

"Staaaay!" Ye jun did his best to act like he wasn't cracking up at his own childish act, hiding his face and chuffing into Mike's tank top. 

"I really gotta go!" 

At that point Ye jun was done playing around. He tugged Mike down around the shoulders until he had to keep himself from falling to the floor and putting his hand on the cot. Michael could feel his cheeks grow hot. Ye jun's eyes softened, as he whispered. "Stay." 

Michael was helpless to do otherwise. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Ye jun's in a passionate and feverish kiss. Their breaths grew hotter the more they drew in together and their hands traced under their shirts and onto the small of each other's backs and-


	23. Chapter 23

"Eew!! Nobody wants to hear about that!" Sadie covered her ears and stuck her tongue out. 

"What? It's romantic!" Michael insisted. 

Ye jun rubbed his temples tiredly, trying his best to stave off his migraine and feeling quite hot with embarrassment. "Can we please keep it tasteful?" 

The three of them had nearly finished off their meals. Ye jun took note that Sadie wasn't a huge fan of the manduguk and mainly pushed her food around. Maybe it was because it didn't taste like her mother's. 

"Uncle Mike that's gross! I don't wanna think about you guys kissing!" 

"We just kissed. It was just a kiss. That's all." Michael closed his eyes and swiped his hands. 

Ye jun's face got even warmer because he knew it was a goddamned lie. The reality was far more explicit. Ye jun was never very good at lying or hiding how he actually felt about things so he relied on Michael to cover things up appropriately. He didn't want to test the notion of what would happen if he didn't step in from time to time and left Michael to his devices uncensored around an eleven year old. 

What was more face numbing was the way Michael described the story. It was odd to hear himself being talked up about pretty much anything. It was touching that he still felt that way despite that story being nearly a decade old. 

"When are you gonna get to the part of the story with my mom? This story doesn't make any sense." She rolled her eyes.

"We'll be there when we get there. And you're gonna be stuck in here long enough to get to it so I suggest you hush." 

They squabbled a bit back and forth about story congruence but Ye jun zoned out entirely. There were subjects that Michael had purposefully left out, and parts that he only understood bits of, but his oral account was probably the most focused he could manage without going off on a tangent. 

After dinner was over, Michael prompted Sadie to go watch tv before bed time. Despite looking like she wanted to press her curious agenda, she scurried off to the living room after a stern glance from Ye jun. 

As they cleaned up after their meal, Michael tutted in annoyance. "Think we're gonna get in trouble?" 

Ye jun busied himself with the dishes instead of answering, pulling the kitchen curtains back to see what the hell the dog was freaking out about outside. 

"Why are you squinting?" Michael leaned in his seat. 

"That's just my face." 

"Don't pull the race card on me. If you've got a headache then take a tramadol and stop being such a baby about it. Honest to god you're so stubborn sometimes." Michael nagged. 

Ye jun sighed loudly and intentionally. 

"Sorry," Michael hoisted himself up and leaned on the counter next to Ye jun, "just… whatever you need me to do okay? I'm here for you." 

"I know. I don't want to talk to Eun ae. She's still mad so... not yet," he grumbled anxiously as he put the large pot aside on the drying rack.

"Then that's what we'll do." Michael patted his back. 

He stopped washing and gritted his teeth. "I feel like… Dan is waiting for an excuse. I don't want to win or… I don't want to fight… but still." He dried his hands off on the dish towel. 

Michael inhaled to retort. Ye jun knew his opinion on that stance. But this time Michael withdrew and nodded his head intently. He continued to pet Ye jun's back, possibly having exhausted his extent of what could be done. 

Old feelings began to creep back in. All he wanted at that moment was to forget. 

"I feel… like drinking." 

"I know. But you can't do that now can you," Michael chewed on his lip, "so what's next? Do you need to play it safe for now?" 

Ye jun batted welling tears from his eyes and nodded. Awashed with guilt, he looked away as Michael started pulling the gas knobs off the stove. It was something of a tradition at this point, every time Ye jun was in threat to spiral. He knew it would be easy to go to the shed and grab a jaw wrench and turn the D-shafts by hand but it took just a few more steps than if the knobs were still there. 

"Thank you for being honest with me." Michael mumbled as he put them in the bottom drawer under the silverware. He took his dog tag chain off and used the key to lock the drawer. 

"I'm sorry." Ye jun leaned forward against the sink and rubbed his mouth. 

"It's not a punishment. I'm not angry with you. I love you. And… I'm tryna listen better," Michael replied calmly, almost rehearsed, but Ye jun couldn't blame him for it.

"I know you are. I love you too." 

"Is this one of those things where Doc Alder would say 'kindness' about it honey?" Michael took his glasses off, his pretty eyelashes batting gently at the shift. 

"No ' kindness' is more like… for feeling bad about feeling bad. And then it goes more and more. I need to be kind to myself for feeling bad in the first place." 

"Well that's probably gonna need a color all its own? What do you think?" Michael chuckled tiredly. 

Ye jun shrugged. "I dunno. Brown. Because it make me feel like shit." 

"Brown for the spiral or for the negative feedback loop?" Michael twirled his fingers in a little circle. 

"Both the loops. Brown for… feedback loop… they're the same bitch." Ye jun frowned with disdain. 

"I actually sort of disagree with that. I think they piggyback off one another but they're not the exact same bitch. Well I need them to be different at least because one of them is a bit more… taxing I guess. What about blue? Is that one okay for the spiral?" 

"Yeah I'm blue," Ye jun mumbled, "just a little." 

Michael patted his back for a little longer. "Hey you know what? What if you took the day off tomorrow?" 

"Now's not a good time, you know harvesting's around the corner-" he started. 

"I know I know. But you haven't had a lot of time around Sadie. We could play baseball. I mean when's the last time we played baseball with your nephew and cousins?" 

"Uuuuhhh… Labor day... I think. Or President's day. One of them." 

"Well why don't we take Sadie out and play a couple of rounds?" Michael smiled gently. 

Ye jun sighed deeply. As long as it got him out of the house so he wouldn't have to look at the stove he'd be happy. "Yeah okay. Sounds good." 

\--------------

The next day, Ye jun rooted through his bedroom closet for the bat and mit. He knew the ball had rolled behind the dog bed, but had been too lazy to retrieve it up until that point. He was only 34 and already his lower back was starting to give out on him. 

He knocked on Sadie's door until she came stumbling out in pj shorts and messy hair. She waved him off before he could speak and went into the bathroom. 

That morning Michael didn't come out of the bedroom as quickly as usual. He was probably picking hairs off his pillow case and moping about it like Ye jun had no idea it was happening. The last time he had tried to brush Michael's hair behind his ear was an absolute mood killer for the both of them. 

Ye jun decided to pretend he didn't notice from that point on, feeling it was a sort of kindness he could give Michael until he came to grips with it. 

After he grabbed the baseball, pushing Oscar off of him and throwing a rawhide to convince him it was a better toy, he started getting more concerned that Mike wasn't downstairs by that time. Sadie hopped down the stairs before he did even. 

Ye jun finally decided to go check on him. He tugged himself up the stairs and went into his bedroom. 

"Howdy." Michael looked up from the bed and sort of sheepishly smiled at him, but it was that sort of flat tight-lipped smile he did whenever something was wrong.

Michael had his tube socks over his nubs and a pair of shorts but he hadn't put his legs on. 

"They hurting again?" Ye jun mumbled. 

"They're a little swollen. It's not a big deal. It's just due for adjustment. Again." Michael made his fake smile again and looked down. 

"Do you want me to bring the chair upstairs for you?" 

"No. I can make it down by myself. Thank you, but I don't wanna miss practice." Michael made a so-so motion with his hands. 

"Yeah, yeah okay. Just don't forget your…. hand things." Ye jun placed the prosthetics back by the nightstand. If the minor adjustments weren't enough, this would be his fourth set so far. They would be in a bit of a financial pinch if that were the case. Ye jun noticed that Michael had been in a bit of discomfort for a little while now, but it led him to wonder exactly how much Michael had elected not to vocalize about it. 

Ye jun left the room, knowing that Michael probably wouldn't want him to watch as he scooted across the floor. 

As he made his way back downstairs he made sure that the chair was 'conveniently' near the foot of the stairs rather than deliberately. Michael often took good humor in the loss of his legs but he was stubborn about being man-handled. Otherwise Ye jun would have been more than happy to carry him downstairs. 

By the time Michael had flopped down the steps one by one and gotten into his chair, Ye jun had already begun making hashbrowns and eggs. Michael rolled into the kitchen huffing and puffing before scarfing down his meal and making light conversation like nothing was bothering him. 

"So Sadie, have ya played baseball before?" Michael pointed his chopsticks at her. 

"No. We usually played basketball or foursquare at home." Sadie shook her head. 

"Well that's a cryin' shame. Baseball's really big with the kids around here. So we figured we might teach you a thing or two today." 

"What does it matter? I'm gonna be stuck here for basically a month," she scowled. 

"Oh come on now fussy breeches, it'll be fun. Junebug here used to be pretty good from what I hear." Michael nudged into Ye jun's butt cheek. 

"Well you heard wrong. I didn't even make the team my first try." Ye jun rolled his eyes. The first time he tried for baseball, his mother was too doting in front of the other kids. She kissed his cheek one too many times to go unnoticed. They teased him hard and he got too rattled to play well enough to get in. 

Afterwards he had another chance to prove himself on the playground to impress Carl Braxton, but it was nothing official. At first he thought he had been accepted into the group, but he slowly came to realize he was being kept around for their personal entertainment. He would often try to laugh along when they placed him in left field but it still stung sometimes.

Even as a grown adult he would find himself worried he was the brunt of someone else's joke whenever people laughed in public. 

After breakfast they packed into the truck and headed over to the baseball field. There were a couple of kids hanging by the bleachers, but the field itself was fairly clear. Very little in this town ever changed. The field was almost exactly the same as when he himself was Sadie's age. 

Once they packed and got out Ye jun took a deep inhale. There was a smell of fire cracker smoke and barbeque in the air that carried over the hot hum of summer. 

Ye jun instinctively reached out for Michael's chair as the wheels slipped on his careful inch down the gravely slope, getting him a well-deserved glare. 

Once they got down with the gear, Sadie picked up the bat and swung it a few times. Incorrectly. 

"Michael, you wanna take pitch?" Ye jun patted his shoulder. 

"Yes sir! You got it sir!" Michael saluted him like the pain in the ass he was before grabbing the ball from the bag and heading off to the pitch. He pulled out a stick of gum and started chewing loudly to annoy Ye jun. 

Sadie swung again and spun around a little bit with a grunt. 

"Careful. Don't want to hit anyone you'll take an eye out," Ye jun chuckled.

"Oh yeah well then how do you do it?" Sadie stuck her lip out. 

"Here," Ye jun cleared his throat anxiously and got her to stand by the batting, gently adjusting her stance "bend your knees. No toes. Heels. You no swing to the side. Up near the shoulder." 

She grunted and gave it a try, coming down a little too diagonally. "Are you gonna throw the ball or?" 

"In a minute. We get this right first, here put your hands here. No need to choke up." He placed his hands over her's gently as his chest began to flutter. Her hands were rougher than he expected, and were already almost as large as his. He leaned close to her and helped her get a feel of the swinging motion. 

"Can we please throw now?!" Sadie called out to Michael impatiently. 

Michael's eyebrows tweaked wryly. "Think you can handle it sugarpie?" 

"He's gonna be a bit low for you so squat." Ye jun reluctantly lifted off of her and put his mit on, ready to catch the ball. 

Michael threw the ball so fast that it hit Ye jun's glove before she even swung. 

"Holy shit!" Sadie's jaw dropped. 

"Hey watch your language now missy!" Michael laughed and blew a large bubble. 

Ye jun lowballed back over. His pitch wasn't so good with his fucked up hands. "Show off!" 

"We'll keep practicing! You'll hit it eventually but you gotta be faster than that!" Michael tutted. 

"Yeah okay, okay. I get it." Sadie grumbled. 

Ye jun nodded when they were ready to try again. Sadie swung a few more times, each time trying to adjust herself to get something to feel right. Ye jun threw the ball back a few more times. 

"How long were you and mom married?" Sadie mumbled without looking directly at Ye jun. She swung again and missed. 

Ye jun felt his breath catch in his throat. This was that wall that he needed to overcome. It didn't make it any easier. As much as he let on about wanting a chance, when push came to shove he desperately wanted to shove his head into the sand. Or shove another shot of whisky down his throat. He swallowed his guilt and his anxiety just to choke out a few words. "About two years." 

"Before Jordan's parents broke up he said they used to fight a lot. Did you guys fight a lot?" Sadie's focus was fixated on the ball. 

"Sometimes." Ye jun concluded. Of course it was more complicated than that, but it was the best answer he could come up with.

"I don't hate you… or anything." Sadie's voice faltered. She missed the ball by an inch. 

Weirdly enough it filled Ye jun with relief. Was he supposed to say he knew? He didn't know. Or to thank her? Maybe there was no right answer. 

But letting the words "I don't… hate you too," slip out of his head was probably the worst option. 

She sort of snorted amusedly at him as he tossed the ball back to Michael. 

"Come on you guys I'm getting bored sitting around an' being this pretty out here!" Michael jeered and threw the ball again. 

This time Sadie hit it. The ball sailed a foot over Michael's left shoulder.

"Hurry! Get to first base!" Ye jun patted her back excitedly as she scampered off to her right. 

Michael lifted the front wheels of his chair off the plate and veered after the ball faster that Ye jun usually gave him credit for. With an arm out he tried to get it before it hit the ground. The ball bounced once and he changed course a little too sharply. His chair tipped over at the wheel and he spilled out. 

"Uncle Mike!" Sadie gasped. 

Michael laid on the ground hooting with glee. "WIPEOUT!" 

They both went over to check him. Ye jun helped pull his chair back up. Michael was still giggling like an idiot. 

"Uncle Mike are you okay?" Sadie patted grass off his shirt. 

"I'm fine darlin'," He bumped her shoulder with the ball, "also you're out now." 

"HEY!" 

"She hit first base she's fine you jerk!" Ye jun hip bumped Michael in the shoulder. 

Sadie laughed off her nervousness before running off to the home base and picking the bat back up.

Ye jun should have known better than to dote on Michael every time he wasn't at his best. Michael was far from delicate. After the loss of the use of his hands Ye jun looked to Michael for strength. Michael carried himself with...well, not with dignity, but confidence no doubt. It was one of the most beautiful things about him. Ye jun was more than willing to be in medical debt for the rest of his life just so Michael could be his happy goofball self. 

After their baseball session was over, the three of them were filthy and covered in grass. Sadie's laughter sung in Ye jun's ears like a note he used to know in his own childhood. 

His walls weren't down entirely but he felt like he had finally pulled a stone out so he see light filter from the other side. He didn't think about wanting to view it through the filter of a whisky bottle for the rest of the day.


	24. Chapter 24

July 29th, 1970

After Lieutenant Gilbert briefed Ye jun on the events of the operation after he went MIA, he was given time to rest. 

When Ye jun was first told he was heading overseas to Quang Ngnai province, his stomach had sloped into the base of his abdomen. If there was a word elevated a step above the word 'clusterfuck' he would have used that.

The province was well known for its hostility from any direction, having grown tired of outside visitors. The VC planted in the west side was doing everything it could to drive the Company out of the jungle. They had cut off supplies, blowing up trucks and any sky train that tried to fly over. The camp was relying mainly on random dated Caribous passing by the skin of their teeth for supplies, touching down as long as a hummingbird would before heading back down along the line. It was starting to whittle the camp down over time. 

Ye jun was expected to keep a tight lip about it for various reasons. His platoon was expected to be on best behavior. There were whispers and rumors both on the radio, and amongst the boys. 

Something screwy went down in Pinkville a year before Ye jun's boots hit the ground. It was going to be hearsay as long as he was in the province, but whatever it was, it was a boiling point for Viet Cong and nearby sympathizers to answer the call to action and stomp Company forces out of existence. 

He did his best to sleep his troubles off in the med bay, but he found himself constantly woken by shrieking and the throwing of steel tables. Webber, one of his five other squad members, wasn't all there anymore. After Ye jun had been cut off, his head nearly splitting on a rock from a chain of landmines, he had gone unconscious and fell through the cracks amongst the crossfire. 

Webber on the other hand wasn't so lucky. He, and other members outside his squad, Sanchez, Chandler and Holland had been rounded up and taken to an undisclosed location. It had taken the platoon a few days short of a month to track them down. Even longer to retrieve. 

All the while Ye jun had drifted further into the safety of the jungle and as far southeast as he could get on foot so he could bend back around to camp. He may have been eating rat guts and bugs but at least he wasn't as bad off. 

Webber was a fast talker from Boston, maybe a little air headed and full of himself, but fresh out of high school so it was understandable. He was funny no doubt, never ceasing to get a laugh out of whoever was in the room with him. Out of his squad mates, Ye jun liked his company the best. 

Sanchez got back on his feet first, more than happy with the idea that he'd 'get back to killing again' soon. Chandler and Holland straggled along for some time. Eventually Chandler came in only to clean the scorch marks left on his skin from time to time. 

But not Webber. Whatever stuff he was made out of was just… gone. It was Ye jun's first experience with the thousand yard stare. The guy was too twitchy to sleep comfortably around. He would suddenly sob uncontrollably or rake his fingernails into his own skin. He rarely spoke. 

They did something to Webber. 

Gilbert came to check on him. He looked at him sitting in bed and shuddering for maybe a couple of seconds before he spoke. "Yeah. He needs to go home." 

The next chopper that touched down, Webber went with it. 

That's why when Michael slipped into his room at the dead of night he was more than welcoming. Ye jun wasn't an idiot. 

When Ye jun first met Michael, his impression wasn't all that inaccurate. He was opinionated, loudmouthed and honestly sort of a bitch. But as time went on, and he had no choice but to rely on Michael, he really pulled through for him. Ye jun respected him in that aspect. Michael had been brave when it wasn't necessarily in his nature. 

When he was asked about Michael, he made sure that Lt. Gilbert knew what the gesture meant to him. 

Ye jun never tampered with the idea of attraction to someone outside of a bar, or a bathroom stall for that matter, especially not with a comrade, but Michael made it quite difficult not to, what with his buns waggling right next to Ye jun's face on more than one occasion. 

It was obvious and purposeful. Ye jun would often curse himself for not acting more repulsed by Michael's nearly scandalous display of flirting. It was almost as though taking a grab at it would be too cheaply gained to say he finally snapped and gave into temptation. He was unsure if he was even ready to be on whatever level of homosexuality that was. 

It took him a little while to hold Michael to a new light. Turning his long fingers strolling along fabric from a threatening level of queerness into something endearing. Even if it was just for a petty fuck, it was a lot of effort being put into seducing Ye jun. It almost felt special, silly even, since he had never had to hold himself to a new light either. That he was wanted in that way. 

He tentatively began to allow himself to wonder, to look from a rosier haze. The way Michael held his lips so they would never part enough to show his teeth, unless he was caught off guard enough to smile genuinely. The laughable width of his glasses and his large ears sticking out which should have been more deplorable than they were. His obnoxious laugh and even more obnoxious southern accent somehow becoming more soothing every time he opened his mouth.

Somehow all those pieces fit into something mesmerising. 

Michael's eyes were enough to make Ye jun turn to putty in his hands. They were a frigid blue littered with uneven brown flecks. There was a touch of something in there that Ye jun wouldn't be able to attach a name to.

Looking back, whatever was going on behind Webber's eyes he could see in Michael's as well. It was duller, less high strum, maybe older. Whatever it was, it probably was the driving factor of his visits. Because Ye jun knew how alone he felt, he could guarantee Michael felt the same way.

The morning they woke up in the same bed together, Ye jun was glad that he had someone near him. He hadn't felt a loving touch in far too long. He had forgotten the feeling of safety. 

Once Ye jun had Michael where he wanted him, he grew shy for a moment. 

"What's wrong?" Michael looked at him with a soft expression and rubbed his hard-on on Ye jun's thigh. 

"I'm, um… it's not… sorry." 

"Is it small, baby?" Michael cooed. Ye jun resorted to a small nod.

"It's okay. To tell ya the truth I'm not all that impressive either." Michael rolled his eyes and shrugged. He placed a flutter of gentle kisses on Ye jun's jaw until he relaxed. 

Michael laid on top of him as they pulled their cocks out of the underwear they slept in, their breaths syphoning from one another until they were lightheaded. Ye jun laced his hands under Michael's tank top, growing quite warm and quite content as Michael ground their bellies together in a soft rhythmic dance. 

The warmth pressed against Ye jun's body, something that was seemingly so unattainable had become all encompassing. He had been settling for cool walls and broken dreams for so long that he had convinced himself he wasn't meant to have it. 

Ye jun came too fast and too hard. His whole body shuddered anxiously as Michael's gentle moans turned into a raspy chuckle right by his ear. 

"I win. Ha ha." Michael teased him as he sat up and started getting ready to get going. He wiped himself clean with the sheet. 

"C-can we do again? With me? You… I mean… Please?" Ye jun choked on dry air, trying to put himself back together. 

"Well I should hope so. Otherwise what have I been doing getting yer attention all this time?" 

The early morning light seeped into the tent, the light burst of cool air brushed up against the warmth in Ye jun's cheeks, and the wet spot on the fringe of his top. "Oh. Yeah, hah. Right." 

"Hell we can make this a habit if you'd like." Michael chortled as he rustled his pants back on for the final time that morning. The sound of his belt solidifying the fact that they weren't going to have time for another round. 

"Yes please." 

"Took you long enough," Michael smiled and winked, "Tell you what if you can outlast me I'll show you something nice." 

Ye jun had no idea what that meant, but he was eager regardless. 

Once he was alone again, his head spun. Usually his hot and frenzied highs would have immediately gotten dunked by his guilt faster if he were in a booth at the county fair. He would usually be sitting at home and drowning in a narrow space barely big enough for his own body. 

There was very little rush that time though. It was for the most part comfortable, like holding something delicate and alive in his hands. He was uncertain if that's how it was supposed to feel. 

Then again he never knew what to feel about anything ever. All he knew was were it a cheap fuck, an overwhelming fear of being alone, or the simple need to survive this, or something more, Michael would be there.


	25. Chapter 25

August 10, 1970

Ye jun was starting to be able to place more weight on his leg every day, though he still needed to add another ten pounds. It was a slow start, a shuffle back and forth across the campsite on crutches as his squad mates jeered and threw pebbles at him for not having to do any heavy labor for a while. He had splintered bones in his thigh and was still quite underweight. 

Staff Sgt. O'Neill often walked alongside him. He was an odd looking ginger man with a remarkably concave face. When he wasn't directly giving orders, he was calm and soft spoken. Ye jun relied heavily on that man's ability to keep a level head when dealing with his personal shortcomings. 

He told Ye jun about how they found Webber and the others huddled together in their captive when they were found. O'Neill told him that he had counted their four heads over and over thinking that somehow he had missed Ahn. Ye jun wasn't quite sure how to respond. 

May 28th was the date he had gotten stranded. He had been out there for 48 days. 

His first meal outside the med bay in a long time was something familiar that he felt he could finally sink back into and relax. He had an assigned meal with the three firing squads. He knew all their faces and was happy to listen to them bitch about the weather and routine recon. Thankfully there wasn't anything too eventful asides the occasional sniper round while out and about. They had dug up a bouncing betty on the side of the road the other day and luckily nobody tripped it. 

Ye jun's squad consisted of himself, squad leader Maloof, Lawrence, Kuntz, whom he hated like the dickens and… well, Webber. 

It was easier to deal with them while they were eating than at their leisure to say the least. 

Everything felt like it was slipping back into place without missing a beat. Except for one slender-framed four-eyed difference. Michael grabbed a tray and gave him an affect smile before sitting as far away from the group as possible. 

Ye jun watched him with a lazy eye as everyone took their turn shitting on Clark again. He wasn't really listening to the story, as it was a standard for Clark to fuck shit up. 

It was confusing to Ye jun that Michael would rather not have been socializing with folks, having always assumed he was something of a butterfly. Maybe that was because dick was involved in the equation. The thought made Ye jun's stomach churn. 

Then again, Michael was new to the group. Ye jun figured that perhaps he wasn't giving the fact that Michael lost his whole flight team enough thought. It must have been lonely to be in a sea of new faces. 

Ye jun tucked his head in and kept his thoughts to himself. As the mealtimes went on for the next day or so, Michael kept up his antisocial behavior, preferring to ignore the cliques that would naturally form around him. 

He waited until no one was noticing to make a move. It was nearly nine at night, folks were prepping for bed. He wobbled up to Michael to fire his shot. 

"Um...hey." Ye jun murmured. 

Michael stopped scraping his tray of wrappers into the garbage and looked up. "Hey. You want it again huh?" 

Ye jun cleared his throat. He wasn't expecting to have such arrogance thrown back at him at breakneck speeds but fine. 

"Hah, figured. You check out the truck lot lately? It's a nice place to clear your head if you're interested." Michael chuckled before brushing past him. 

Ye jun clasped a hand down on his shoulder feeling whatever confidence he had mustered wither away. "W-wait. when?" 

"Maybe round eleven. I dunno. I won't wait all night though so you gotta make up your mind before I decide to hit the sack." Michael removed his hand and smiled and waggled his eyebrow. 

Eleven it was. It was easy for Ye jun to leave. Nobody was keeping a close eye on him except maybe Carter, who would much rather retire to his own  
quarters than sleep in a med bay cot.

He sauntered through the twilight with not a star in sight, blotted by the sickly green glow of the lanterns around the campsite. 

He hobbled about on foot, leaving his crutches behind, despite Carter's warning. After a light search around the dusty lot, he found Michael leaning against the side of a truck out of sight. His arms were crossed and he was finishing off a butt. 

"Well, you're punctual ain't ya?" Michael shoved his hands in his pockets and swaggered up to Ye jun, smoke wreathing around his form. 

Ye jun went hot beneath his skin. He didn't come here to talk. 

Michael wrapped his arms around Ye jun's neck and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Gentle broke away to feverish. Ye jun started grinding but found more stability in pressing Michael up against the truck.

The rush was more familiar to Ye jun than the comfortable hazy frottage that morning in the med bay. 

"You mean business don't ya buddy?" Michael tittered as he hiked one of his legs up Ye jun's hip. 

"Shush." Ye jun ushered him, suddenly feeling quite annoyed with Michael's cocky quips. Something about it irked him in a way he couldn't put a finger on. 

Michael's breath hitched as Ye jun rutted in between his clothed legs. "Oh. Well don't let me cramp your style." The first few times it was charming but now it just felt belittling. Something about the tone in his voice sounded performative. Practiced. 

A petty fuck. 

With a quick yank, Ye jun unbuckled his belt. He pulled his cock out and pushed his fingers into the loop of Michael's belt and gave it a firm tug. 

Michael started unzipping his pants and dug his hand into his underwear, humming to himself. Ye jun tugged at his arm to get him to turn around. 

"Hold on a second-" Michael protested, trying to turn to look at him. Ye jun nudged Michael's legs apart and kissed the back of his neck. Michael tried to turn again, but he pushed back. 

At that point Michael turned around and shoved Ye jun off hard enough to make him stagger. "Dude what the fuck?" 

Ye jun only looked into Michael's steely glare for an instant before dropping his gaze. He huffed trying to catch his breath, realizing his interaction was downright shameful. 

"Asshole, do you like to be pushed? Hm?" Michael nudged him back again with his palms. Ye jun shook his head, afraid of looking up. He suddenly felt small and confused.

Michael rebuckled, his stance widened as though he were waiting for something to happen. Like he was waiting for Ye jun's next move, expecting something out of him. 

"I'm sorry," he replied timidly, still not able to bring his eyes back up from his boots. He could hear Michael rub the stubble on his chin for a good long time. 

"What shithole did you learn that in?" 

Ye jun finally looked up as his fingertips began to shake by his sides. Michael's shoulders were slacked, and his face was twisted into a disapproving frown. Ye jun's breath remained ragged and his damaged thigh began to throb painfully. 

"Don't feel too good now, don't it?" Michael tilted his head waiting for an answer. Ye jun thought about that dirty blonde in the leather flight jacket pushing him to his knees and felt the pit in his stomach grow larger and larger yet. 

He resorted to shaking his head. No words would come out. 

"You can't be doing that. Gotta be gentle you hear?" Michael a hand on Ye jun's shoulder. The muscles in Michael's hand felt tense, nervous even. It shook Ye jun to his core. 

"Yes. I'm sorry. I'm not usually…I don't know why I did." he shuddered. 

"Didn't figure. Look, I don't do anal without lube. I just don't. I won't. Sorry to burst your bubble but that shit? It fucking hurts okay? God awful." Michael swiped his hand. Ye jun chewed on his lip and nodded intently. He hung onto every word. 

Michael pointed to the shipment of crates off to the side of the truck. "Sit down. On that crate right there. I wanna show you something." 

Ye jun followed him as prompted. As soon as he was sure he was out of the way of wandering eyes, Michael knelt down between Ye jun's legs. He pulled Ye jun's cock out at half mast and pumped it a few times. "Now you listening? I'm gonna be taking the ropes for a little bit. I want your feet planted firmly on the ground. Try to hold still, I don't want any bucking."

Ye jun nodded, his mind buzzing excitedly as Michael gently tugged at his hands and had him place them on his thighs. 

"I don't swallow, I don't do choking and I don't do face fucking, so write that down now." Michael counted on his fingers. Ye jun wasn't a detective, but he could infer what those phrases meant. His lips twisted up in an embarrassed grimace. 

"O-okay." Ye jun cleared his throat. Michael pulled his pants down a bit further and planted warm kisses on his lower belly. 

"If ya behave I'm gonna show you something nice." Michael smiled sweetly at him, taking off his glasses before he put his lips around Ye jun's dick and nearly sucked the life clean out of him. 

Ye jun did his best to keep himself planted like he was told, yet he still found himself climbing up the back of the crate behind him, completely enthralled at the sheer tenacity of this man. Gasping for air, he watched Michael's head bobbing up and down to the point where he was brushing the tip of his nose into Ye jun's hair. 

He was completely helpless as Michael pressed his palms down on Ye jun's thighs to hold him still. His hands were warm and he rubbed small circles with the meat of his thumbs. Michael's eyes darted up at him occasionally, holding a knowing clarity to them through pretty eyelashes. 

It was unlike anything Ye jun had ever seen. Feeling and imagining what was going on on the other side of a wall was unparalleled to watching long fingers trace his hips and inner thighs. The silky feeling of his warm tongue. The little sighs Michael let out through his nose. It was so much better than the rush, the sole thing he had allowed himself in life, it was nearly maddening. 

As Ye jun hissed through his teeth, Michael retracted, licking down the length of him until he orgasmed. Sitting back on his heels, he wiped the drool off on his arm and chuckled. "Was that good?" 

Ye jun grunted in agreement, but inside he was scrambling to doing something crazy like… building Michael a patio or something; he wasn't fucking sure. 

Michael got up and stretched stiffly. "I'm gonna turn in for the night. I'm glad you liked it." 

Ye jun made a weird choking sound in protest before sputtering out a response that made any sort of sense. "I… you? You don't want?" 

"Don't worry about that none," Michael scrubbed his short cropped curly hair down, "I had fun so you're off scott free, I promise." 

"You sure?" He squeaked. 

"Gotta keep the mystery going or else where's the fun in it?" Michael winked at him. Ye jun did his best to tamp down his frantic need to build a patio as his legs wobbled beneath him. He stood up and tucked himself back into his clothes, sweaty and vibrating out of his body with euphoria. 

"Can I kiss you?" Ye jun placed a hand on Michael's arm. 

"Oh it's convenient you're remembering your manners all the sudden. If you keep that up, I'll keep doing more nice things for you in the future," he teased. Michael leaned forward and kissed Ye jun softly on the lips one more time before lighting up a new smoke and walking off quite crookedly back to the sleeping quarters. 

Ye jun honestly genuinely wanted Michael to keep doing nice things for him. He liked feeling good. It was better than any interaction he had in his life so far. The closeness of skin and the intimacy of someone touching him with a face he could see was enticement enough to be nice. 

He was used to there being a gaping canyon between him and everyone he had known his whole life. But the allure of Michael's performance, both in phrasing and in gesture, made that sliver of a gap left over stand out all the more. 

Up until Ye jun overstepped that boundary, he would have bet on everything that they would have trusted each other with their lives. But for a sliver of a second there was a bonding force outside of the jungle that they both held close to themselves in the tremble of their hands. He didn't know how deep that ran in Michael's veins. 

Ye jun just hoped that he'd never do anything to see that come out of Michael again. 

Petty fuck or not.


	26. Chapter 26

August 12, 1970 

The cat wasn't quite in the bag as far as Michael was concerned. He thought about Ye jun's unprompted forceful attitude and whether or not that was a deal breaker for him. He wished he could have been surprised to think that Ye jun had a mean streak, but Michael could be meaner if he had to. 

Regardless, from what he could gather, he didn't think that that boy had enough experience to have an idea of what he was doing with himself. He was cautious to say the least. Then again, were it not for Ye jun, Michael might just have to have been content with losing the only hookup he'd have access to for a long time. 

As he scrubbed the latrine in the heat of midday, he did his best not to read too far into it. He had a bad habit of overthinking shit. Hence the latrine scrubbing. 

It was hot outside. The muggy air hung still as one of the many oil-tainted puddles littering the campgrounds, and Mike's hair was always more than happy to friz in even the slightest change of weather. So in a sense Mike was in a humid hell that walled in every breath he took. As he wiped his brow a guy walked up next to him to relieve himself and chuckled something under his breath. 

At first Michael thought the guy said 'Toto' which made his stomach flip-flop under the assumption that he was making a 'friend of Dorothy' pass but that soon came to rest as he picked up his pail and trudged past a group of grunts clucking and scratching at the floor like chickens. 

Throughout his day this kept up. Every time someone whisked by him it became more apparent that he had misheard the word 'dodo'. He was unsure whether he was being targeted for their hazing or if it was part of a larger conspiracy of a mass joke that he wasn't privy to. 

Maybe it was discussed in a briefing between the subject of boxer syndrome and eating lead paint. 

By lunchtime he was fairly certain that it was a hazing because when he sat down to eat at the table, the squads were barely containing their gleeful chortles. Even Ye jun was red in the face and tucking his lips in. 

He blinked a few times and scooted away from them so he could have some peace. They were honestly acting like children. They hushed up after Johnson sat down with them. Thank god. 

"Can we change the station? If I have to hear Fortunate Son one more time I'm gonna blow my fucking brains out." Johnson grumbled and pointed at the radio by the table. After no one seemed apt to getting up, he groaned and dialed the knob himself. 

Michael quietly ate his rice medley out of the tray. He had recently gotten into the habit of pouring his food onto the tray rather than eating it out of a bag. It was a ritual for the sake of his own sanity, regardless of the mess it made, it helped him feel like he was eating a proper meal. 

Occasionally the gnats buzzing around his ears would whisper small unintelligible nothings to him, which was always best to ignore. They rarely had anything of worth to say. He grew alarmed when they started growing too loud to ignore, before realizing that the sounds were coming from the table he was so desperately trying to pretend didn't exists. 

The clucking began again from Ye jun's table, like a slow buildup of pasta starch about to spill over the edge of the pot. Michael squeezed the bridge of his nose. _Weren't they too old for this?_

Michael felt a small something whap him in the back of his head, He bent under the table to find a candy wrapper had bounced off him, followed by a flurry of stunted giggles. 

"Dodo," He could hear a harsh whisper. He finally lost his cool. He couldn't stand the feeling of eyes watching him. 

"I don't fucking get what's with all the 'dodo' bullshit!?" He snapped at the boys impatiently. 

Ye jun stood up and picked the wrapper off the ground before dropping it on top of Michael's head. Michael shook his head until it fell off. 

"Dodo." Ye jun looked at him smugly. 

"What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?" Mike grimaced as Ye jun plopped down next to him. 

"It's because your a dumb flightless bird!" Tomtom exclaimed before one of the soldiers clasped his hand over his mouth and shook him. 

"Ssh! Shut the fuck up Tom, you'll ruin the joke!" The grunt, a black man with meticulous tapered eyebrows and a handsome face muttered at him.

"Were we not supposed to tell him-" Clark blinked in confusion, "-everybody's been talkin' about it." 

"...What?" Michael squinted hard as though it would somehow sharpen his thinking reflexes. As though pinpointing his vision would miraculously open his consciousness to a higher level to help him understand why he was witnessing grown men getting out of their seats to cluck at him. He was fairly sure that dodos were indeed not chickens, but maybe he was giving these boys too much credit. 

Ye jun was no help... because he was also clucking. 

Johnson rolled his eyes as though he was experiencing the same level of pain, but had far more experience with this level of buffoonery. "For the love of God. It's the nickname we picked out for you."

Michael blinked a few times, feeling himself blush as Ye jun chortled next to him. "...I didn't sign up for this." 

"Oh come off your high horse you hippie," a ghostly pale grunt that he had yet to speak to sat down next to him, "It's our platoon's highest tradition. Everyone gets one. Most of us call Sgt. Kennedy Pops or Gramps, well, at least not to his face." 

The fellow smiled at him, baring incredibly crowded bottom teeth and his eyebrows angled in a way that spelt mischief. He started pointing at the grunt putting Tomtom in a mock choke hold. "Pretty Boy Floyd over here since he's too worried about getting his hands dirty. And Thomas Thompson, or Tomtom. He comes from some bumfuck commie town in California. And Clark sometimes goes by Gravy Train and soon enough you'll figure out why. Dumbest motherfucker you'll ever meet and he can eat an ungodly amount of gravy, (fuckin' inbred hilbilly). And Johnson over here, aka. Commander in Boring, aka Lumps. Well call him that because his head looks like a deflated dodgeball."

"I'm so fuckin tired of you bozos." Johnson, or 'Lumps' sat up and sighed in exhaustion before throwing his trash away. Unfortunately the description of his head was fairly accurate. 

"It means you're one of us now." Ye jun nudged Mike's shoulder, making him bounce off the strange dude that was looking at him like he was a decent meal. 

"And me? They call me Earwig." Earwig flopped his head down on Michael's shoulder with a delicate hand placed on his own chest, his sandy brown hair brushing up against his cheekbone as he batted his eyes at him. 

Mike could feel a bead of sweat form on the back of his neck. "Wh-why?" 

"Do you really wanna know?" Earwig tweaked his eyebrows. 

"Drastically less so," Mike concluded. 

Earwig continued to eat his meal practically sitting on top of Mike as though he was purposefully invading his personal space. Mike looked over at Ye jun, who's cheeks were still bright red from a bad case of the giggles. Mike couldn't help but laugh himself. "So what about you? What do they call you?" 

"Ricebowl." 

Mike's smile tightened a bit. He clapped his hand on Ye jun's shoulder and looked him dead in the eye, his face unchanging. 

"I am. Never calling you that." 

………..

Later that evening, almost immediately after lights out, Mike slipped away to go meet up with Ye jun again as suggested during lunch. 

He had already gone through his ration of cigarettes he'd been given and most folks at the camp were stingy with bumming to the point where he was nearly willing to whore himself out for a smoke. So he stood in the lot trying his best not to let his irritation get the best of him. 

The lot rarely changed, but keeping track of the crates and where things were parked was the most important part of going unseen. He leaned against an unlocked truck and tapped his foot. He hated waiting for anything. The air hung so thickly with humidity that droplets began to form on his skin, his clothes and hair clung to his thin frame. 

After about twenty minutes or so of waiting, Ye jun limped up to him and cleared his throat. "Hey." 

Michael's eyes narrowed nervously for a moment, still unsure of where he stood on the arrangement entirely. "Hey." 

"Hi. Um… sorry about the guys… I kinda do that." Ye jun stroked his damp hair nervously. 

"You gave me that dumb nickname?" Michael side-eyed him amusedly. He walked up to him until they were both leaning on a truck door. He placed his arm over Ye jun's head and stared him down. 

"N-no! Well, I help but… is stupid." He put his hand over his face to cover up his chuckles. 

"So you sicked them on me." 

"No! Is not like that! Is just. You… you usually sit alone." He shuffled one of his feet sheepishly. 

Michael had to stop himself from laughing too loudly. "Aw that's actually kind of sweet of you. And I got to see you make a damn fool of yourself actin' like a chicken so I guess we're even." 

Ye jun giggled a bit too half heartedly, gently trailing his fingertips on his Michael's hips. "You just look… like you need a friend." 

Michael chuffed in response. They locked eyes and for a moment neither of them spoke. 

"...Can I kiss you again?" 

"Yeah you can kiss me again." Michael hummed, savoring the fact that he could look over Ye jun enough to rattle him in his boots. 

Ye jun firmly placed his lips on his own, putting his hands back down on his sides. Michael gently tugged his hand and placed it back up on his hip. Ye jun's lips began to trail from the corner of his mouth, down his neck and to his chest. 

"Um… you know how you did that the other day?" Ye jun mumbled. 

"Want me to do it again?" Mike smirked. 

"W… I mean yes, but. What about you? You want to? Um..." 

"You don't gotta worry about me. Or do you mean you wanna have a go at it?" 

Ye jun gave him a little side glance as though he was considering a retort, but came up with nothing. He cleared his throat and nodded. 

Michael fiddled with the truck door until it opened and he hoisted himself in. He helped Ye jun up along with him after watching him favor his right thigh a bit too much attempting to climb. After a firm tug, Ye jun practically belly flopped onto him, letting out an awkward little snort. 

The pinkened summer evening light washed over their frames. Michael looked up through foggy glasses at Ye jun's darkened silhouette, as though he himself was formed out of the atmosphere they dragged along with them into the front seat.

They kissed again, this time flush against one another and their lips occasionally stopped and started as they lost themselves in the grinding. Their small sounds of jostling clothes and wet crooks of their skin pulling apart were accompanied by sounds of the late biota of the jungle merely at the foot of the barbed wired gates beyond the lot. 

The lonely 'off' feeling that Michael had been struggling to combat suddenly began to fade into something familiar and certain. 

Ye jun paused for a moment, watching every move and shuddering breath Michael took with hands grazing against his belt. Michael rubbed his temple. "It's okay. You're fine, go ahead. I'll tell you if I need to." 

Ye jun nodded and pulled on Michael's belt, taking it off entirely once it rebounded and tapped him in the cheek. He tugged Michael's pants and kissed his tummy until Michael decided to wiggle both his pants and underwear down to his knees. Looking down and blushing Ye jun swallowed hard. 

"It's okay. Go ham if you want." Michael sat up a bit to watch. 

Ye jun licked his lips and tried to push himself down on his flexing cock until he gagged, retracting immediately. 

"Woah woah buddy! Where's the fire? Just relax." Michael chuckled and patted Ye jun's shoulder as he recovered. 

Ye jun tried it again more slowly with similar results. He rubbed his throat and winced. 

"Yeah I know he's kinda twitchy huh? Look you don't have to get it all the way down you know?" 

The excitable look in Ye jun's expression wilted away to the point where it started getting heavy in Michael's chest. What Michael assumed were poor manners was becoming abundantly clear that Ye jun had no clue what he was doing. 

Ye jun was baby gay. 

Michael felt a sudden crashing wave of uncertainty. He could deal with fending off a prick. That was easy. But letting down someone that green without ripping him to shreds? Michael didn't have the dexterity for something that fragile. 

Ye jun sat up on his lap and rubbed the back of his neck, shrinking himself the longer it took for Michael to respond. The glimpse of light bounced cherry red off his cheeks. 

"Hey, it's all right. He's always been a little rowdy. Do you want me to take the ropes again?" 

Ye jun took the hint and nodded as Michael sat up further. He gave Ye jun's forehead a quick peck and guided him back down gently. "Let's just take it slow okay? You can use your hands to do most of the work. Just focus on sucking the tip and it'll do the trick enough." 

Ye jun nodded again, his dark eyes were sharp and flinty, determined not to fuck this up as he did as instructed. It was… interesting. Michael did his best to just enjoy the moment for what it was and hold back his many, many criticisms. He knew that it wasn't really going to be about the way it felt more than a practice round, but Ye jun was really giving it his all. It was sweet. 

It was just the two of them alone again. Speaking very few words and huddling close together. Michael knew it meant the world to him through the deep gentle sighs that blew through his pretty upturned nose. 

He stroked Ye jun's back and watched him work his lips around his tip with no rhyme or reason… or coordination for that matter. It was still a pretty sight. Luckily Ye jun was better with his hands than his mouth. He could work with that. 

He clung onto the thought long enough to get a rise out of himself. 

"Baby I'm gonna cum." He rubbed Ye jun's back and chewed on his lip. 

Ye jun hummed but continued on his merry way, hot in the face and sleepy eyed. Michael placed a palm on Ye jun's forehead and spoke through a strained voice. "I'm gonna cum." 

It was too late to warn him a third time before Michael finally shot a load. Ye jun jutted back and retched a few times. He coughed to his side and proceeded to wave his hands in a panic. He yelled something in Korean but If Mike had to guess it probably meant something along the lines of 'it's in my nose.' 

"I tried to warn you!" Michael finally lost his composure in a fit of laughter. 

"Fuck it stings! Aya!" Ye jun's eyes watered as he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and fanned himself with the other. 

By that point Michael was of no help when it came to Ye jun scrambling out of the truck, having been incapacitated by rupturous laughter. Ye jun frantically attempted to blow his nose with a thumb pinch as Michael finally got his shit together and put his pants back on. He slipped down and continued to pat Ye jun's back as he wiped himself clean on his shirt, his eyes were reddened around the fringes. 

"That was...um." Ye jun did his best to hide his face until he was more presentable. But they were way beyond that. 

"I'm not gonna lie. That was probably the worst blow job I've ever had in my life." Michael took a couple of deep breaths as laughter continued to rattle his lungs. 

For a moment Ye jun glanced up at him with a hurt expression, but Michael shooed it off with a kiss on the cheek. He jostled Ye jun's shoulders, and finally even he decided it was worth a laugh. 

"It's all right man. You get an A for effort. But we're gonna work on that." 

"Yeah. Hah, Okay. I just… wanna make you feel good?" Ye jun winced and looked to Michael for reassurance, "Do good things to you? I mean-" 

"Don't worry buddy, I know what you mean." Michael wasn't one for coddling or nurturing in these sort of instances but Ye jun was a kind soul who was doing his best. 

"I'm… boys," Ye jun concluded. 

"Shit me too," Michael chortled. 

They both leaned back on the truck side as Ye jun pulled out a couple of smokes and a lighter. He offered one to Michael and even lit it for him. 

"Ah thanks." 

Ye jun blew out a puff of smoke after a long drag before getting into another coughing fit. Once he recovered he smoothed his hair out of his face. They stood quietly together before either one of them spoke. 

"I know you lost your crew. Is that why you no sit with us?" Ye jun looked away from Michael's eyes, attempting to pull it off as aloofness. 

The question caught Michael off guard for a split second. It took him a moment to track Ye jun's thought process. Suddenly the hazing made a lot more sense. He took a long drag before replying. "I've never been much of a people person." 

"Well… you no have to be alone. You no have to stay in the jungle all the time. Is not good for you." Ye jun nudged him gently and tapped his own head. 

As Michael's light began to creep to the edge of his butt, the pink evening sky began to grow into a bleeding red. Out of the corner of his eye he could have sworn that the trail of cigarette smoke was a billowing pillar on the horizon. Along with it brought a whiff of burnt flesh. 

"Yeah... I guess you're right."


	27. Chapter 27

August 13, 1970

Earlier in the morning, Squad six through twelve were ordered out for what Michael assumed from the light murmurs, for a large supply drop. The drop site was changed regularly and it wasn't Michael's job to worry. Considering Michael's ordeal with his own C7 he was fairly convinced that it wasn't overkill or routine. Perhaps the manpower was for explosives or ammo.

If he protested loudly enough maybe the drop would take him on board, but he wasn't clamoring to the idea of going back to loading. True to his word, he kept his promise he made to Gilbert and kept his head down as the squads prepped. They were supposedly going to be gone for the weekend. 

Once he took his lunch break and stepped into the med bay, the antsy look on Ye jun's face told Michael that it wasn't the case. They ate their meals quietly as Ye jun sort of pushed his food around his tray. Michael tried to make polite conversation a few times, only to find himself being somewhat ignored. 

Michael didn't get the chance to give it another shot before they were interrupted by a loud clamour just outside the tent. The med team pulled Pryce in, if Michael could recall his name correctly. They hoisted him up on a cot as Carter came into the room and started barking orders. Michael sat up a bit to see that he had a wooden spike driven up from the sole of a dirty boot. 

Ye jun covered his eyes and moaned nervously. Michael patted his back a bit absentmindedly, as he slipped into a curious daze. He watched Pryce buck and gnash his teeth against the people who were attempting to help him. 

"Adams, did you tourniquet this?" Carter growled at one of the boys holding Pryce down as he tried to thrash himself out of pain's way. 

Adams nodded a bit before Carter leapt down his throat. "Well you're lucky it was a fucking punji trap and not a frag then huh?! Next time do yourself a favor and tourniquet your fucking neck and kill yourself!" Carter snapped, tourniquetting above the old one. 

As they began setting up trays and tables to aid Pryce, Michael was once again trapped inside the crowded tent with no hope of tiptoeing out of the way. 

"He's been out here for a good half hour standing in a petri dish! I trained you myself so stop being a such a worthless turkey and go get me some sterilizer you fucking twat!" He threw the increasingly more rancid smelling boot at Adams as he tail-tucked and hopped to the antiseptic tubs. One of the medics that Michael had yet to catch the name of started dumping water over the wound to clean the sewage off of onto the floor. 

"You," Carter pointed at Michael menacingly, "Girl Scout! You think you can hold Pryce down with those twigs?" 

Before Michael could protest, Carter slammed his hand repeatedly on a medical tray, startling the shit out of him. Michael nodded and he did his best to weave in-between the four medics to get to Pryce, who was swinging indiscriminately at this point. 

Michael grappled Pryce's arms, getting properly elbowed in the nose. Before he could even buckle, Carter snapped at him again, threatening something or other as he shoved the crook of Pryce's knee under his armpit. He did his best to recover and try to grapple again as Pryce flailed around. Finally he got his arms around Pryce's arms and torso long enough for another guy to hold onto his ankle as Carter pulled the spike out. The pain was enough to give Pryce a second wind. 

"Tryin'a help goddammit." Michael muttered near Pryce's ear as he writhed on the table. 

Adams started pouring out a large quantity of a syrupy orange substance into a steel tray and slathered copious amounts with gauze over the wound. The stick began at the sole Pryce's foot and ended out the back of his calf. 

"Get off me! Fuck you guys!!" Pryce moaned low in his chest and shuddered in Michael's arms. 

Carter wiped sweat off his forehead as he flushed the wound out, getting more and more agitated as he continued. "It's too deep. Looks like there's a tibial fracture, most likely a clean break… He needs to go to a hospital. Chavez, get the fuckin' choppers on station 4." 

He threw a piece of gauze down on the tray and sighed as Chavez took to the PCR. Michael glanced at Carter as he composed himself and flushed the calf wound again. Michael's stomach flipped when he heard water hit the flooring below. 

"I'm dying! I'm dying! I'm really dying aren't I?! I wanna go home!" Pryce began struggling again, trying to squirm his way out of Michael's grip. 

"You're not dying! Hold him fucking still!" Carter snarled and pressed some gauze to the hole.

Michael repositioned his hands to hold Pryce as still and flat against the cot as possible. He felt the shudder deep in the boy's bones, his broken moans struck a familiar note. After a moment of sifting, he understood why. 

It was the same fearful cry, the same agonizing pain and confusion that had rattled Ye jun down to a motherless child. The same helplessness Michael felt a spectator to fate. Worthless. Michael's voice hitched in his throat. His mind scrambled to will himself to put himself in fate's way. But only one thought came to mind. 

" _Oh, once upon a time in Arkansas,_  
An old man sat in his little cabin door  
And fiddled at a tune that he liked to hear, a jolly old tune that he played by ear. It was raining hard, but the fiddler didn't care," He hummed his tune gently, quietly. Pryce was still shuddering but his kicking had stopped. His tears still streaked warm brown cheeks with dark sheened bars but he was no longer sputtering. 

" _He sawed away at the popular air, Tho' his rooftree leaked like a waterfall, that didn't seem to bother the man at all._ " Michael patted his arm as he continued the song. His years of thoughtless ambling and the tunes he would play on the curb to get enough change for a decent meal had been an empty vacuum of time in his life. That imprint of false serenity he would claim as his own was all he had to offer. 

Pryce choked up a bit as Carter took little glances up to make sure he wasn't going to get kicked in the head. With a wobble in his voice he licked the tears off his lips. " _That's not the lyrics. It goes like… Far and far away down in Arkansas, there lived a squatter with a stubborn jaw. His nose was ruby red and his whiskers gray_."

Carter set the leg with a loud huff. Pryce let out a loud yelp. Michael patted his arm again, determined to get his attention. "What's the next part? What's the next part bud?" 

Pryce closed his eyes as Adams hung a clear bag of fluids up on a medical pole. "Hummm… um… _And he would sit and fiddle... all the night and all the day... Came a traveler down the valley, asked if he could find a bed._ " 

After Chavez got off the radio he looked over and replied. "I grew up with the one that went something, something: _there was a little boy and his name was Bo, went out into the woods when the moon was low. Something, something an old bear who was hungry for a snack-_ " 

"Chavez stop squawking and help me out! You sound like a fucking idiot!" Carter barked. 

Adams hooked Pryce's arm up to an IV as Chavez and Carter worked on getting his leg in a splint. Carter puffed a bit before patting Pryce's shoulder. "See? Easy peasy." 

"Said they'll be sending a chopper in about two days sir." Chavez 

_"Good, good," Carter replied distantly, "and Pryce here gets lots and lots of morphine until then. Lucky you. DiAngelo, I need you to get a hold of Lt. Ramond and tell him we're holding up back at the camp for critical."_

__

__

_DiAngelo nodded and left the tent. Beneath Michael's palms, Pryce's limbs began to relax, nearly to the point where he went limp. Riddled with anxiety, Michael gently patted his head a bit. "Night night buddy."_

__

__

He looked behind his back, still quaking at the notion that someone was going to die in front of him, almost needing to check that Ye jun was close by. He was. In fact he was laying down with a pillow wrapped around his head with a vice-like grip. 

Carter on the other hand went over to his cabinet and pulled out a few water bottles, tossing one to Michael even and repeatedly butted his forehead against the metal door. "I was supposed to- I was supposed to be accompanying out there. Instead I'm stuck back here. With. A Bunch. Of. Incompetent. Morons. And. A. Septic. Time. Bomb." 

As Adams and Chavez tidied up, Carter snapped his fingers a few times. and pointed at Michael "You… Name I can't fuckin' remember." 

"Rivett sir." Michael cleared his throat. 

"Don't give a shit. I need you to clean the floors. You're gonna need medical gloves and bleach. A lot of bleach. Then I need you to stay back for a bit. Think you can handle that?" 

Michael nodded. After he was dismissed he went to the cleaning storage outside a clicks down. It was a bit like a tool shed that was completely collapsable that had five gallon jugs of bleach, chlorine etc etc. Michael had one of the few key copies to get into it, as he did every day. 

Scrubbing the floor clean of sewage and water and blood and puss was nasty work. The bleach was enough to cancel the odor out, but even then it was a sight to behold if he could blink his way through the fumes. Ye jun coughed a lot but refused to even leave his blanket fort in fear of getting a glance at the human slush getting pushed around. Michael couldn't blame Ye jun for being squeamish about it, but for him it was easy to sort of click that feeling off. 

He thought about the way people disliked his smile. And about Lt. Gilbert taking one look at him and knowing the truth about him. It frightened Michael to no end that there really was no truth to himself. 

Chavez stayed back for a while to help file out the paperwork and have minor discussions with Carter before finally leaving the tent. Carter made no sign that he was listening, as he carried on with pressing his forehead against the cabinet. 

"You seemed to find your way around a mop." Carter mumbled as Michael moved the bucket around the room. 

"Yes sir, they hired the best gorilla they could find to show me how." Michael clucked and took a short break from scrubbing. 

"You think you're hilarious don't you?" Carter gave him a deadly glare. 

Michael quickly dropped his gaze. "No sir." 

"From what I hear you're something of a problem child. Lt. Gilbert's been keeping a close eye on you." Carter finally lifted his head from the cabinet door and leaned up against it with his arms crossed. 

"I've… been on my best behavior sir. It's all I can do." Michael cleared his throat and continued scrubbing. 

"Have you now?" Carter chortled glancing at Ye jun's cot, "let's step outside for a moment why don't we?" He pulled a paper bag out of his locker and beaconed Michael to follow. 

Michael wiped his forehead and removed his gloves, following after Carter out of the tent. They walked until they hit an empty lunch table. Lunch time had already come and gone nearly an hour ago by that point, and there were few infantrymen around to bother eavesdropping even if they wanted to. 

Carter sat down and pulled a can of tuna and a bread pack out of the paper bag before making himself a sandwich. "I know what you're up to Girl Scout. I see poofs sneak in and out most nights like it's some kind of secret-" he cut Michael off before he could protest, "put your hackles down, I would have said something sooner if I was gonna. Now I'd consider myself a straight shooter so I'm just gonna state it outright, I need hands." 

"Are… you blackmailing me sir?" Michael stuttered. 

"Yes and no. I sent four squads out, there were supposed to be two back here and I was supposed to be overseeing since most of them don't know how to do jack shit besides scratch their nut sacks. Pryce here decided to try stomping around and now he's looking at a possible stump in the future. But from what I've heard from Lt. Gilbert, he doesn't trust you. And I don't trust anyone that Lt. Gilbert doesn't trust. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?" 

"Yes sir." Michael chewed on his lip as Carter sucked tuna slop off the end of his thumb. 

"What, ain't you got a backbone kid? What are you twenty three? Twenty four?" 

"Twenty five sir," he murmured, "permission to speak freely sir?" 

"Yeah, sure go ahead." Carter rubbed a bag under his eye and sighed. 

"I don't think I should be trusted sir. I mean, I've never done anything but. Sometimes it's… it's like I'm smiling and saying all the right things… but most folks expect more than that. They know it's a sham somehow. Like… I'm a meat suit putting on an act." 

"Everyone puts on an act once in a while don't they? And we're all made of meat. So I guess the question that I'm asking is that do you believe that it's a sham?" 

Michael attempted to smile at him, but he could feel it pull into a pained wince instead. "I think so sir." 

"See that's the running theory that Gilbert's got with you, and I would have agreed with that theory up until now." Carter finished off his sandwich and looked at him with a stern expression. 

Michael blinked a few times. "What do you mean sir?" 

"I know what I mean. And you know what you mean. You think you're the only one who would rather be doing something better with your time than this shit? You're nothing special, so take some humility in knowing that shit's fucked everywhere." 

Michael frowned in confusion. 

"My new theory is that you in fact want to believe that you're a meat puppet because you've got some… beaten puppy complex. It's easier to decide on doing away with being a person than admitting that you're fucked up right?" 

Michael could feel his throat dry. "Are we talking like… philosophically or?" 

"I have a degree in medicine, so no it's not philosophical at all. What I saw back there maybe twenty minutes ago was not something a meat puppet would do. It was very human." Carter tapped the table with an index finger. 

"I just… held a guy down… sang a stupid song sir." Michael tittered. 

"Oh please, humble isn't a good color on you. Now, I assume the only medical training you've got is first aid right? Say I vouched for you. Took responsibility, do you think you'd give me a reason to regret it?" 

"I mean… I wouldn't want to disappoint. Especially with a court martial on the line. But what's in it for you? What do you get out of it?" 

"I'm not expecting you to be fucking Mother Teresa, I just need extra hands and I need to know you're the kind of man who can handle a job like that." 

Michael thought about the slosh of fluids on the damp floors of the med bay. "I can handle blood if that's what you mean. But I'm not sure that Lt. would be up for the idea sir." 

"You leave Gilbert to me. I'll make a bet with him. We get bored sometimes so I can assure you he'll be interested. You'll still be expected to do custodial, but I would have an extra body on call if needed." 

"...Okay. But… what if Lt. is right? What if I fuck up sir?" Michael. 

"It's simple:" Carter crumpled up his paper bag, having finished his short meal and tossed it into the can. 

"Don't." 


	28. Chapter 28

After their baseball game, later in the evening, Michael rubbed the knots out of Ye jun's back and tried to talk him into bringing Sadie to work with him. Before she showed up, he had taken a leave of absence from his classes to help things settle but the thought of falling behind was too daunting to hold it off anymore. 

Ye jun blatantly refused, throwing the harvesting season thing back up in his face, but Michael could tell from the stiffness in his partner's back that the problem was personal. Ye jun gave no further explanation even after Michael prompted, just grunting and shrugging him off. 

"Okay fine, I'll take her with me, but I ain't gonna be happy about it." Michael chuffed and grumpily tucked himself into bed. 

So there Michael was the next morning, giving Ye jun perhaps too brisk of a cheek kiss, unable to hide the fact that he was annoyed with living with a human wall once more. 

Despite the comfortable hum of heat and the crisp air carrying a drone of insects, Michael felt a crackle of some sort of feeling beneath his skin. He was never good with feeling much of anything. 

As many times as he insisted that Sadie needed to be on her best behavior, he wasn't going to get his hopes up that it was going to last. After a brief discussion with his professor about the situation, Mike instructed her to sit down in the back of the room next to him as he unloaded his psyche statistics course book. 

He squinted to see the chalk board from that far away and did his best to focus as Sadie started bouncing a pencil by its eraser off the surface of her desk. He muttered under his breath. "Knock that off." 

Sadie kicked her shoes around the desk legs. "I'm bored." 

"Me too darlin'. If you behave I'll talk to Ye jun about your TV privileges." Michael chewed on his moustache. 

"Deal," She held out her hand in a little fist, retreating when Michael leaned in to kiss her hand again, "haha gross!" 

After Michael scribbled down between listening to the Professor's example of sample standard deviations for different groups, desperately wishing he had remembered to grab a calculator, Sadie grabbed a pen from his desk and started doodling on her hand. He handed her a sheet paper to use instead. 

Once the class was over he stood up only long enough to get back into his wheelchair parked next to the desk. 

"Can we go home now? It's supposed to be summer." Sadie pouted and stood up. 

"Unfortunately we've got three more to go," He ushered her down the hallway. "Watch out for elbows honey." 

As the hour of neuroscience went by, Sadie nearly filled half of Michael's notebook with doodles and drawings. She was surprisingly good at it. She took after her father in so many ways it was staggering. The idea that after a billion and one variables in human nature that Ye jun had managed to make a little clone of himself. Michael prayed to himself that it wouldn't mean she had the same hangups. 

Class by class she grew more fidgety, to the point where she accidentally kicked someone's seat once. Mike could tell she was trying her hardest to be on best behavior. 

Finally they had their lunch break in the grassy courtyard before fourth period. They ate their sandwiches as Mike tried to get a head start on his homework. 

"All right, go run around for a bit. But stay where I can see you." Mike shooed her off. 

"Kay thanks bye!" Almost immediately Sadie started chasing the squirrels around the courtyard with a piece of crust like a wild beast unleashed. 

"Looks like you got your hands full today." Michael looked up from his book to see Paul standing next to him. 

Paul was a portly middle aged married man with dark hair and freckles on his hands. He started taking psyche courses roughly the same time as Mike, having a calming gentle air about him whenever he spoke, and a smile that told that very little ever stressed him. Mike would have killed to dip his stumps into a mind placid as Paul's for a change of pace.

"Yeah a little bit. She's a real sweetie though. Been on pretty good behavior." 

"She Ye jun's kid?" Paul sat down on the grass and crossed his legs. 

"Yeah. Looks just like him huh? Jam packed with energy." He chuckled. 

"The group's gonna be working on finalizing our experiment on Saturday, are you coming?" Paul pulled his books out of his satchel. 

Mike side-eyed him. "I dunno. Will there be brunch involved?" 

Paul nodded and started doing that meditation thing he did every chance he got. Honestly Mike was sure that Paul would be able to levitate any day now. "So how are things going in paradise? I haven't heard from you in a good bit." 

All Mike needed to respond was a nose laugh to answer that question. 

"So I take it not well? Got something on your mind?" Paul closed his eyes and rested his hands on his lap. 

"It's a little bit of everything. Honestly how do you do that whole inner peace thing? I'm pulling blanks here." 

Paul chuckled. "Well usually I start with closing my eyes and breathing, it's the easiest part. It takes practice. I never thought I'd get it right with the kids running around and yelling, but then a peculiar thought came to me. The first thing a child does when they're born is take their first breath." 

"Then it's all downhill from there." Mike snorted. 

"That's the ticket though. It's the one thing you've known the longest, the most basic function. You can't do it wrong, and if you backtrack on all that baggage it's the first thing you've ever done so there's no outside influence." 

"I can tell you from my partner's experience that I would beg to differ. Poor thing has horrible panic attacks. And he sneaks smokes sometimes so tack that on."

"So what's bothering you Mike? Let me practice on you." Paul glanced up with a brow bent to suggest that he wanted Mike to cut the crap. 

"Is it that easy to read?" Mike scrubbed the back of his neck. 

"I mean, it better be with what we're paying." 

They both chuckled at the joke. Mike looked over to make sure that Sadie was out of ear shot before speaking. 

"Well, for starters, he's an emotional wreck right now. He's wallin' up something fierce and I know he's worried about flack from his ex, but come on. He won't even talk to me about it right now because, according to the counselor, I'm not being supportive the right way. Basically she thinks I need to unclench."

"Are you saying you don't need to unclench?" Paul side-eyed him. 

"Well, er… I mean. Can you blame me? I've seen the song and dance before and now I'm the bad guy because I subconsciously make fail safes? It's just trial and error man." 

"Okay, let's just say maybe you're one hundred percent in the right. Your mind is this absolutely unbias record of events. Even then, what good is it doing you if you keep doing the same thing over and over? Isn't that the textbook definition of insanity?" 

Michael licked his lips and repositioned himself in his chair in annoyance. 

"I am insane Paul. I've got the papers to prove it. Pedigree paranoid schizophrenia." Michael trailed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

"How's your sex life?" 

"Not great." Mike put his chin in his hand and huffed, He watched Sadie try to climb a tree absent-mindedly. 

"Is it the same problem? Have you seen a gastroenterologist yet?" 

"Yeah I seen 'em. I had the colonoscopy and everything. He said everything looked peachy as all hell. I told him I was havin' pain and he took it all serious until I started talking...uh, intimacy. Told me 'well maybe it's because it wasn't made for that.' Might as well told me to fuck off. Didn't even care I was in pain goin' to the bathroom anymore. I would say fuck me in the ass but I can't do that now can I?" 

Paul tutted. "I mean, I hate to impose or anything, but there's ways around. I'm sure you're aware." 

"Yeah I'm aware," Mike shooed him off, "but still… I get worried it's the meds or something." 

"You do know that's dangerous thinking… right? I mean it's fine to run it by your psychiatrist but. Have you talked to Ye jun about your concerns?" Paul sat up a bit with a nervous look in his eyes. 

Mike simply shrugged. "He's got a lot on his plate." 

"Well, so do you. One of you has to give eventually, otherwise it's going to keep deteriorating. I thought I was gonna lose my shit after the car accident. I thought it was gonna end my marriage, and I miss Mara every damn day." Paul blinked slowly. He had spoken about his seven year old daughter only a few times, but every time sounded as calm and thoughtful as anything else Paul had ever said. 

"Do you want me to put on the glasses and cigar for a minute?" Michael patted Paul's shoulder. 

"No need. I've come to grips with it. It was a freak accident that happened without purpose or reason. There's no one to blame it on. Especially not my wife." 

Michael's brows furrowed with an old wave of tiredness. "I've tried talking to him about Nam. Ye jun doesn't like it. He gets…mad. I wish… I wish he believed me. Maybe that's why..."

"You're still holding onto some resentment?" Paul slowly rolled over and stood up, brushing the grass off the back of his pants. 

"I don't wanna say that-" Michael chewed at his moustache. 

"Say it, don't say it; you feel the way you feel. Figure out what you want to do about it and let go. Also if you see Carla let her know she left one of her scrunchies in Professor Landon's office."

"Will do." Michael replied quietly as Paul stretched his arm and walked off to his next class. 

The last course of the day was long and droning. Sadie was wiggling about too much for Mike's comfort. In fact, every noise in the room was irritating. He just wanted to tuck himself away and be left alone for a moment. 

As the class ended, Mike collected his things and ushered Sadie to follow him. Once they were both in the truck he started up the engine. Hopefully when he got home he'd have a little time for a nap before he had to go pick Ye jun up.

Sadie kicked her little shoes against the bottom of the dashboard. "Hey Uncle Mike what are you going to school for? Aren't you like a grown up?" 

Michael chuckled at the notion that she could get well have sat through nearly six hours of classes and not understood a word of what was being taught. "Well that's just college for ya. It helps grown ups learn how to do specific jobs they want."

"What job are you going to college for?" 

"I'm not completely sure just yet. I know I want to be a therapist but I'm not sure where that road's gonna lead." 

"But it just sounds like a lot of dumb math. I hate math." 

"Me too sugarpie. Me too."


	29. Chapter 29

_"No way. No how. Nothin' doing."_

Ye jun groaned as he followed Michael's little backtracked wheel spins around the kitchen to get him to change his mind, hugging his robe and shuffling about in his Saturday morning slippers. "Michael come on." 

"Absolutely not. I have a life too you know? I'm doing my best to juggle the books and I've got a group project coming up soon, but I'm gonna come unglued if you don't take care of this. You're taking Sadie to work on Monday and I'm not budging on the subject." Michael tutted. 

Much to Ye jun's surprise, Michael had opted out of their Friday dinner outing, which could only mean he was fed up with something enough that he wouldn't even want to share the same breathing space as Ye jun. 

Sadie quietly stirred her cream of wheat and did anything she could to not look either of them in the eye. Making a rubber band slingshot and hitting a student in the row ahead was about where Michael's temper must have broken, or Ye jun would assume so based on how tight lipped she was. Michael wasn't quick to yell, but his patience was nothing to be trifled with. 

"Michael, you know I can't do that." Ye jun rolled his eyes as Michael did another lap to avoid a caressing hand. It was much like a nervous pace, and were Ye jun to try to pursue him with a bug crawled this far up his ass, he would probably flee the room entirely. Or worse. 

"Because…?" Michael gave him a little side glance. Like he was expecting him to buckle. This is what Ye jun got for leaving a subject on red. 

"Be...cause… You know what? You're not being fair," Ye jun could feel his cheeks flush, "I need your back on this." 

"Yeah, well I have my limits," Michael retorted dismissively, "Come back when you feel like talking." 

Ye jun made a little sound of bewilderment, a sputter of air escaping his lips to fall on deaf ears. This was so fucking typical of him. The point of a red-light-green-light system was that there was supposed to be no pressure, but Michael seemed to take it as a challenge. Lord _forbid_ Ye jun ever trampled those boundaries in the same manner however. 

"Fine. Fine! Whatever." Ye jun snorted and sat back down to finish his meal, leaving the conversation at a stalemate once more. The stalemate lasted all the way out the door as Michael went to his brunch meeting. 

__________ 

Sunday's mass yielded little resolve, leaving a bad taste in Ye jun's mouth. The church on the other side of town was fine and dandy but it wasn't the same anymore. Once wind had carried that Ye jun lived a life of lustful sin all those years ago, his mother's righteous crusade led straight to his priest. Then to the rest of the community, news spread like a swarm of gay locusts. 

Ye jun had been excommunicated from the church he grew up in for quite some time now, so the pains were as dull and worn as the wooden booths he sat upon. His struggle to read through an English copy of scriptures he was once familiar with in his family tongue was a problem that resonated very little with his English speaking church members. Many times he had fallen short when called upon, and it wouldn't be the last time his voice faltered behind English altar bells. 

Michael was little help, as he was too closed off to religion to offer more than the occasional hand at reading comprehension, and if all else failed, Ye jun would have to wait until he had a chance to speak to the priest. 

Michael often said very little about himself, save for his strong sense of morality and philosophical opinions, but given his word choice, Ye jun had comprised enough to reason that he had been raised with a flavorless protestant backdrop. Perhaps that's why altars and high ceilings put him out of comfort's way. Ye jun had no way of truly knowing. Above all else, Michael was good at sidestepping conversations that he didn't enjoy having. 

So come Monday, his emotional constipation led to a dry spell of words. He couldn't articulate exactly what their argument was even about, nor was he willing to revisit the discussion if Michael was just looking to draw blood given the opportunity. He needed time to organize his thoughts. 

All he knew is that he didn't want Sadie in the same place he worked. 

He had phoned his father a few days prior to keep the man in line, but he knew his appa well enough that he wouldn't be able to contain his enthusiasm of seeing Sadie in the flesh. As far as his dad knew, Sadie had no idea of their relation. And he would prefer to keep it that way if he could help it. 

Michael drove the truck and hummed along to a tune playing on the radio as Ye jun stewed in his own agitation with Sadie nearly talking the both of them to death. They needed to have a serious discussion about her grounding extension because Ye jun couldn't take much more of this girl's unbridled energy.

Once they parked in front of the shop, Michael gave him a gentle pat on the thigh and handed the two of them their lunch boxes. "Have a good day you guys. Now Sadie remember what we talked about with being on best behavior."

"Yes sir." Sadie mumbled before climbing out into the gravely driveway. 

"Have a good day hon. I'm sure you can make it through the day." Michael chuffed with a hint of mean-spirited humor. 

Ye jun simply snorted and rolled out of the truck. He caught up to Sadie, who was already peeking in the entrance of the shop. 

"Okay, ground rules, you listen?" Ye jun waited for a nod before he continued. "Follow the red tape on the floor, no go past because this place is dangerous. Could lose a finger." 

"Is that where your fingers went?" Sadie blurted out and covered her mouth as Ye jun glared. 

"Yes," he lied, "so listen when I say to do things. It's loud so we get you some ear plugs when we go in. No running, no talking too much because no one hear you well. Behave yourself or or… trouble. Lots and lots of trouble. Understand?" He shook a finger at her. 

"Yes sir!" Sadie saluted him. Too much moxie. Ye jun merely groaned as a response. 

Once they walked inside the shop, they were both met with loud grinding of a sander and the clangling of metal rods. The inside of the workshop was big enough to fit at least four tractors in comfortably at any time so the spacious walls amplified any tinny sound made inside. Sadie covered her ears, but Ye jun opted to hold one of her hands and guide her to the punch clock on the back wall. Afterwards he scooped up a box of bright orange ear plugs and helped her put them in. 

The crew usually consisted of eight to twelve mechanics per shift, but that day in particular there were only five. Frank and Davy Gulak were cousins about six years apart who never stopped arguing among each other, Wang Yong, the only other Asian boy in his grade school and refused to even speak to him until he got the job a few years ago, Jose Morales, whom Ye jun knew back in his drinking days, and of course his father. 

Ye sung was a stout man with pox scars over his cheekbones, and had had a wispy thinned hairline ever since Ye jun could remember. He was everything a dad should be shaped like, down to his pudgy knuckles, rough grinding jaw, and round gut, which Ye jun was fairly convinced was a factor on why he deviated as far away from attraction wise as he could in terror that he would wake up some day next to a clone of his father. Regardless, he was Ye jun's closest and oldest friend. 

He was the first one to look up at their new guest and the last one to peel his eyes off of Sadie's little frame. 

"THAT'S BETTER!" Sadie shouted over the clamor. Ye jun responded with a chuckle as he put their lunch boxes down on the bench. 

As predicted, his father trudged up to the both of them, bending down as much as he could to get a good look at Sadie. She blinked for a moment before thrusting her hand out. "HI I'M SADIE. WHAT'S YOUR NAME?" 

Ye jun's father didn't answer, but simply shook her hand and batted tears away with a few rapid blinks.

"Go sit down Sadie!" Ye jun prompted to the bench where their lunch sacks sat and patted her back. 

_"She's beautiful."_ He spoke barely loudly enough to hear. 

_"Keep it together Dad,"_ Ye jun gently prompted and shook his head, "So what do we got today?"

_"Ah tractor just needs an oil change and some soldering work mostly. You got the truck on you today?"_ He pulled a hand up to wipe his eye before realizing how oil stained they were. He wiped his hands off on the front of his pants. 

"No Mike's got it. Truck might be a conker but the van's on its last limb. If that piece of shit breaks down in the middle of the road I'm leaving it there." Ye jun chuffed at the long awaited scenario. He hated the Econoline the way one would hate a wobbly restaurant table or people who talk in theatres. It stuck out more so whenever their relationship was as tense as it was. He would often tell himself that someday he was going to take it to the dump personally to watch it get crushed into the most comically small cube possible. 

With the slightest wince at the mention of Ye jun's domestic life, his father nodded. _"Well, we got a call over on 147th ave. We've got a combine emergency, wanna see if you can get Wang to agree and hitch a ride with him and go check it out?"_

_"Yeah I'll go ask. You should come too. Wouldn't want to get bored around here."_

_"Wouldn't dream of it."_ He rolled his eyes and chuckled. 

After declining a suspiciously mischievous offer at taking Sadie in his car, Ye jun patted his father's back and collected his daughter. Sitting on his lap in the cramped two seater, Ye jun held her close as Wang drove over every pothole available on the road. It didn't seem to bother her a bit as she nearly pressed her face to the window to look at the horses as they passed. 

Once they hopped out of the truck they were smack dab in between a never ending radish field to the left, and a never ending brussel sprout field to the right. Sadie shuffled her feet a bit and looked to her left. Then her right. Then behind herself. "Well this sucks. Where are all the horses?" 

"It's agricultural. Uh… vegetable farm." Ye jun's eyes wandered to the white factory barn plastered against the hazy deep blue pane of sky a good twenty or yards more, with his father's vehicle not far behind the dusty trail. Maybe that was the location they were supposed to meet up with the caller. 

"Why does it stink out here?" She covered her nose with her hands. 

Ye jun cleared his throat. "It's probably chicken fertilizer there's… chick- a...it's chicken farm nearby- Hey Wang I think we passed it!" 

"Yeah yeah. I see! I have brain oops!" He groaned before trotting up to his dad's truck to let him know. Wang was somewhat scatterbrained, but he was pretty enough to make Ye jun envy him for getting off scott free more often than not. 

Once they back tracked to the barn they saw a tall burly man. Before they had a chance to ask him if he was the client that called in, he gave them a little look before speaking. "Youuuu arrrre goiiiing toool taaaaaake as leeeeft befoooorre yoooouuu- Jesus fucking Christ I'll just show you." 

And with a tongue to chew on, they had a personal escort down to the combine, which seemed to have just stopped mid-line out in the radish field. Once they parked and got out, the guy sort of swung his arms and lumbered up to the combine. 

He merely pointed at it, and Ye jun piped up before he could do his spiel again. "Looks like a newer model. Did it shut down on ya?" 

"Oh you speak English? Yeah she just sputtered down. about ah...forty five minutes ago. She ain't leakin' or nothing." 

Ye jun gestured Sadie to stand back and hoisted himself up. He popped the engine hood up as Wang checked around the hull for holes and wear. "Your valves are off. It's overheating." 

"Well I mean i can see that with my own two goddamn eyes I don't need you to tell me that. I already replaced the damn fan." 

"Looks fine. You replace spark plugs?" Wang patted the hull and kicked a bit of dust under his boot. Ye jun's father started pulling some equipment out of the back of his pickup. 

"Yeah, replaced the spark plugs too. Just. Is this gonna take long? I ain't got all day." The fella squinted through the bright day light, his face growing awful red and sweaty for someone who supposedly was out on the field all day. 

"Hopefully no. I don't think the spark plugs are the problem. I think what we're looking at is structural. Don't worry we'll be quick about it." Ye jun slipped down, hoping that the farmer would leave sooner rather than later. He couldn't stand micromanaging and intense heat at the same time. 

"All right I'll leave you to it. Just hurry up I don't even have half the field done." He swatted at the air behind himself and got back into his truck.

"So what's wrong with it?" Sadie knocked on the metal. and looked at the three of them curiously. 

"Dunno." Ye jun chewed on his lip in thought. 

"We have to find out," Ye jun's dad piped up, and like a psychic prediction, he continued with "You know I work out here long time ago?" 

"Appa she doesn't want to hear about that." If Ye jun had to hear about his father's fabled back breaking labor from way back on that particular day he was going to lose it. 

"Really? Can I help you guys out?" 

Ye jun lifted her by her waist and put her close to the combine seat and then tossed her the keys. "Yup. You get to turn on the engine. Make sure it works." 

Her brows furrowed. "Left or right?" 

"Right. Clockwise. Make sure to buckle first." He listened as the combine came back on quite smoothly and began its automated crawl down the line. It had a loud rattling quality to it and sure enough it died out. 

"I didn't do it." 

After removing the grate they did some poking around. Appa checked the harvesting chain. "Think I figure it out. See look." 

"What's wrong with it?" Sadie called down, leaning over the edge to see what was going on. 

"Careful," Ye jun looked up at her, blowing on the end of her pony tail, "Well looks like Mr. Rhubarb face-" 

"-Cottingham." Appa interjected. 

"-Cotting _yam_ bought a new fan for no reason. The engine is breaking because the chain keep shaking it too hard. So we need to check the chain. Make sure everything works." 

"Why does this farm only grow vegetables?" She leaned over again. 

"Because-" Ye jun ducked under to remove the sprocket holding the chain up. 

"Did you really have your fingers cut off by a tractor or was that a lie? Are we gonna see any horses today? Because that's really uncool that we drove by horses if we're not going to go see horses. I mean you live near horses, if I was you I'd drive by them every day so i can pet them. Hey do you always tell dumb puns? Does anyone ever laugh at them because I'm not laughing." Sadie continued to rapid fire one question after another as she propped her sparkly pink shoes on the dashboard. 

He bumped his head on the hull and looked up, rubbing himself on the sore spot as his father chuckled with amusement. "Aye-yey-yey do you always ask all the questions? Can't hear myself thinking." 

"I can practice whistling instead. I can whistle with my fingers. My dad showed me, do you wanna see?" 

"Why are you doing this? This no get you out of grounding. Do you want more days?" He handed the loose bolts to Wang, who had more finesse with his fingers than Ye jun ever hoped to accomplish again. 

"Good sir I dare say that I'm dying from...a pox. Of boredom outeth my mind. I shan't make it another moment. Go on without me darling." She feigned coughing, draping herself over the seat and stuck her tongue out and gurgled a dramatic fake death. 

Ye jun discreetly coughed into his hand and looked away from his coworkers. "Was that um, from _Upstairs Downstairs?_ "

"I dunno," she shrugged, "My mom watches that kind of stuff." 

Any composure Ye jun could hide behind his warmed cheeks was diffused underneath his father's obnoxious hooting laughter. "You sounded just like that at that age!"

"Wait you knew Jun as a kid?" Sadie's eyebrow raised, suddenly very interested in what his father had to say. 

"Of course. I'm Ye jun's father. Always so much drama. So much drama with this boy." He patted Ye jun's back. 

"Wait… hang on," Sadie mulled it over as it started clicking with her, "If you're Jun's dad… then…" 

"Yes Sadie, just… please I'm trying to concentrate." Ye jun dismissed her. 

"Can I call you Pop-pop?" Sadie spoke with a hushed tone despite her volume being nothing of a secret. 

Honed in and ignoring Ye jun's groan of annoyance, Appa nodded vigorously. "Sure if you want." 

"Do i have a grandma too? Or?" 

"Yes, yes, and aunts and cousins. Whole big family. Maybe you meet them no?" Appa leaned against the combine, raising an eyebrow at Ye jun in expectation to respond. 

Ye jun felt a sudden rush of guilt course through his veins, but as he tried to shut down the conversation, a croaking noise seeped out of his throat, making him sound like a baby crow. "Okay Appa that's enough for now. Hand me that wrench." 

_"I was just trying to-"_

_"I know. Just drop it Dad. It's not happening. I still need that wrench."_

His father frowned and pulled the wrench from his toolbelt and hucked it at Ye jun. He caught it but not before it nearly knocked the wind out of his stomach. He couldn't blame his father for being mildly upset with him, having only met his granddaughter two or three times. It felt unfair, but Ye jun barely had a leg to stand on as it was. 

His father side-eyed him before looking up at Sadie again. "You know, Ye jun no like horses. He too scared of them." 

"Haha, you're scared of horses?" Sadie mocked him. 

"They're big and dumb and freak out if they see garden hoses and their hooves could crush your, wh-you- I no need to explain myself to you two!" Ye jun stammered. He was being harassed between two generations, as the two started neighing at him. Even Wang chimed in on the hazing. 

If Ye jun wanted to be bullied this badly he would just have been back in basic.


	30. Chapter 30

With only the occasional wispy cloud passing by, the midday heat baked onward. After they got finished with adding a new sprocket and fixing the chain's length to fit snugly, Ye jun readjusted the valves and prompted Sadie to turn the engine again. It worked like a charm. Carefully, as not to burn either them against the hot metal, Ye jun lifted his obnoxious, delightful spawn to the ground. She protested until he lifted her again, carrying her like a piece of lumber all the way to the truck. 

After a brisk conversation with the farmer, the two trucks swung back around to the shop. Only once they were back under florescent lighting did Ye jun realize that Sadie had a good bit of sunburn. His stomach did a little anxious somersault as he bent down to get a better look. 

"Oh, oh. Ouch," he hissed as his fingers danced nervously over her ruddy open skin, " I'm so, sorry I didn't-"

"It's okay. I've had worse," Sadie hummed, "So do you do this every day?" 

"Ear plugs," he reminded her as he guided Sadie to his lunch box, where he hoped Michael had packed enough ice to keep things cool. 

"SO DO YOU DO THIS EVERY DAY?" Sadie shouted as she adjusted her earplugs. Ye jun wiped his hands on the sides of his pants and extended her arm, rubbing an ice cube up and down his length. 

"Sorry," he grumbled. Fucking idiot. Stupid fuckin idiot. He should have known better. "Yeah I do this every day. It depends. Changes sometimes." 

"Can I help around?" She tugged his hand, pleading until she was practically hanging off his wrist. He was glad that her sun burns didn't ruin her good mood. 

"Okay. Come on, I know what you can do. You can separate bolts by size." 

He handed her a couple of tin cans as he hopped on with helping the Gulaks with their new problem project. Sadie sat down on the floor outside the red tape and started sifting through the bolts, making small darting glances at his father. "So that guy is really my grandpa?" 

Ye jun cleared his throat. "Yeah. He is." 

"Hey um… Jun?" She placed a handful in an empty old coffee can with a small clinking sound. Ye jun put a pair of welding gloves on from his reach of tools, mainly with his teeth. Gloves weren't the easiest things to put on anymore, and he had Michael to thank for buttoning his shirt every morning. His welding mask was only slightly easier. 

"Why didn't my parents tell me? About you guys I mean?" 

"Um, well…" Ye jun chewed on his lip in thought, "It's hard to explain. Grown up stuff." 

"That's not really a good answer." She mumbled. Regrettably, Ye jun turned on the torch rather than respond. 

Sadie was quiet and didn't complain when he ignored her, but he had a hunch that she was still waiting for a solid answer. "I… I wasn't… a good friend to your mom. Or a good husband." 

"Oh," Sadie's furrowed gaze shifted to her crossed legs, "did you ever say you were sorry?" 

Ye jun got lost in his thoughts. The misdeeds, the lying that he regretted, and the mistrust in Eun ae that he allowed to grow like an ivy over an old brick wall were all of his doing. It was entangled and rooted deeper than he could ever hope to voice. He was never a man to speak his mind, or speak at all if it could be helped, but the more he thought of it, he couldn't recall. 

"No. Not in any way that mattered." 

"Well that's dumb." She grumbled. Ye jun drew in a breath to retort, but ultimately she was right. 

"I wish it was that simple Sadie, sometimes...um… sometimes people get too angry to hear apology," he muttered under the stuffy sheild. 

"Well if you're sorry then you should say it anyways. That's what my mom says, so if she doesn't take her own advice then… Maybe I don't have to listen to her other rules… like how many cookies I eat after everyone goes to bed." She rubbed her nails on the front of her shirt aloofly. 

Ye jun lifted his welding mask to his forehead and gave her a funny little look before tutting. "Naughty. Cookies are bad for you. You'll be fat like me before you know it." 

Sadie rolled her eyes and went back to sorting her bolts. "You sound just like my mom! Ugh! She's always talking about 'making healthy eating choices'. I weigh like… ten pounds! I'm a growing young woman!"

Davy Gulak helped him drop a heavy piece of hull on the ground. It had a rusted spot eaten into it and needed replacing. Ye jun bumped him with an elbow as the guy readjusted his nuts a little too casually around an eleven year old girl. Honestly what was going on down there? 

"So…. you're afraid of horses." She smiled smugly. 

"Not afraid," he huffed. 

"Well I like horses. I like wolves too! Oh and tigers and I like to draw cats but I'm bad at drawing horses! What's your favorite animal?" She stood up and fidgeted with the hull's brittle rusted fringe. 

Ye jun opened his mouth to answer but the loud bang of a door called his attention. The door to the office room sat on a janky hinge that made different noises depending on who opened it and why. He had gotten used to identifying when his manager Cooper Haines was leaving the office for a piss break. This was not one of those times. 

Haines was a rough and round man, who seemed to age five years for every year Ye jun knew him, with white hair and pants always hiked up too high. Ye jun had grown up alongside him, and yet there wasn't another man in the world that made him feel smaller. 

Ye jun put his torch down on the concrete floor and got a bit closer to Sadie as Haines walked straight-legged up to Wang and opened his mouth. Ye jun couldn't comprehend what he said over the crackle of blood rushing to the back of his skull, but he had enough experience with Haines' vocabulary to know deep in his gut. 

On an impulse, Ye jun clasped his gloved hands around Sadie's ears. She struggled a little, probably startled by the sudden gesture, but Ye jun shushed her. He stood as still as a stone, pressing Sadie's ear to his waist-side and held her close as his heart rattled in his chest like a caged pigeon.

Ye jun remembered the first time he had been at the brunt of Haines' rage issues. He had recently started working at the workshop as a fourteen year old boy and Haines's patience for him and his father were thin. He had pointed a sausage finger in Ye jun's face and yelled at him so loudly that Ye jun's constitution gave up on him. He woke up on the floor only a few moments later, to which neither his appa nor Morales ever truly allowed him to recover from. Despite their best efforts to minimize the damage through good humor, the fear struck deep regardless. 

He watched Wang get screamed at an inch from his face in a prickly daze as Morales and his father did everything in their power to look at anything else besides the spectacle. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for Wang to get the shitty end of the stick, as he was the youngest and newest member of the crew. It wasn't out of the ordinary for him to fuck things up on the occasion or be careless with routine mantainence inspections. 

Usually Ye jun barely paid attention to it anymore unless it was his ass getting chewed, but that time may as well had been as bad as his first, and for the life of him Ye jun didn't have the mental room to think about why. 

Haines, panting and red in the face pointed at Ye jun, snapping him out of his daze, "What's going on here?" He gestured widely. 

"... My daughter sir. I-I had to watch her today." Ye jun tried to speak over the crackle in his ears, his voice sounded tight and strained. 

"You have a daughter now, (fuck, all you do is breed). Just. Make sure she stays out of the way." Haines waved him off and stormed off back to his office. 

With a heated face, Ye jun glanced down at Sadie to see that she had wrapped a hand over his gloved finger. Her eyes were cast to the concrete floor with a sad frown etched in her brows. As he removed his hand from cupping her ear, her gentle grip followed it. 

Suddenly Ye jun's insides felt like jelly. The crackling in his ears faded into a high pitch ringing as Sadie plopped back down to sort the rest of the bolts, albeit less enthusiastically. 

What a stupid piece of shit he was. 

Wang frustratedly threw a rag on the floor before deciding he still needed it and scooped it back up. He muttered something that sounded like disjointed curse words before punching out for a lunch break. 

After finishing a shaky soldering job and deciding to buff it later, Ye jun put his tools down on the bench and vaguely mumbled to Davy that he was going to lunch before punching out. 

Michael had packed them both baloney sandwiches, but Ye jun didn't feel much like eating. After watching Sadie consume at least half of her sandwich and down a couple apple slices, he stood up, wincing as he realized that he had absent-mindedly been twisting the leather of his belt on his waste line. He ran his fingers through his hair before finally breaking and tapping on his dad's shoulder. 

_"Can I bum a cigarette?"_ he mumbled. 

_"Thought you said you were quitting."_ Appa replied as he handed him a light. 

Ye jun grunted in response and took a drag. _"I'm cutting back. How's Mom?"_

His father, Ye sung, had his fair share of licks in his life. Ye jun knew this only because his dad was willing to tell the stories of toiling the earth under scorching sunlight, working his way up to mechanics with gusto at the drop of a hat. It was something to be proud of, coming to the country at the age of seventeen with the US equivalent of six dollars in 1939 and a case of rickets that left him squat and sore. 

His mother, Mun, born Byun Mun, on the other hand came from a good bit of wealth, coming overseas along with her parents as a toddler through the education program. Her family's prosperity didn't last once their foot in their Korean agricultural industries withered, and afterwards they were left to pick up the pieces in America. Her maternal relationship withered as well once Ye jun came out of the closet almost a good decade ago. 

_"Oh you know. She prays for you. Says she wishes you'd call her more-"_

Ye jun held back the impulse to roll his eyes. 

His dad puffed out a cloud of smoke and grumbled, leaning against the wall and tapping Ye jun's shoulder with a stiff finger. _"Hell, what with all that twelve step nonsense you've been going on about I haven't seen you around much either. Do I gotta schedule an appointment with your secretary just to see my son once in a while?"_

_"Come on Dad, I've just been busy. Still playing catchup with the bills,"_ he mumbled. Sadie had finally finished her sandwich and began wandering around the shop for something interesting to do. Ye jun kept a watchful eye on her, his muscles tensing off and on. 

_"Yeah, well, it would do you good to drop by your family without having to drag you there. And that little girl of yours deserves to get to know her grandparents."_

Ye jun chewed on the inside of his mouth in thought. _"You know… family says it's supposed to always be there. And then it isn't."_

_"Oh please-"_ he chuffed. 

Ye jun cut him off curtly. _"I was talking about Eun ae. So I can't say I blame her for not wanting Sadie to get too close,"_ he paused, _"Dad… I don't… want her to turn out like me… She might really have a shot… she's smart."_

His father took a deep inhale and held it for a moment before blowing it through his cheeks. _"I know I was tough on you… growin' up. Got to thinking that we wouldn't be lucky enough for a shot… and hell it ain't all bad."_

Ye jun tightened his lips, knowing that was the closest he'd probably ever get to an apology. Acknowledgement that his first drink with his father was when he was only fourteen years old. Responsibility for displaced feelings. Either way it never landed a solid hit and Ye jun was too tired to take another shot. 

_"I know Dad._

After lunch break was wrapped up, Ye jun still didn't feel like eating, and he still couldn't shake the feeling he had buzzing in his skull all the way until Michael showed up in the driveway to pick them up. He knew better than to come into the shop with the less-than-tolerant crowd, but what Ye jun wanted from him the most that moment was a hug. 

The first thing Michael did was fret over Sadie's sunburn, blaming himself for not packing sunscreen, the second was scolding Ye jun for not eating a proper lunch. 

Honestly he didn't deserve it.


	31. Chapter 31

If Sadie were to describe her week-long extension on her grounding as disappointing, it would have been an understatement. At least she could work around their lax attitudes about turning on the tube from time to time, but after watching a rubber band snap off that poor woman's cheek she knew she was in deep. 

What made matters worse was that Jun and Mike's good attitudes had grown short lived and sour around the edges. Despite the festive smell of firecrackers in the air, and the occasional streak of a roman candle in the dampened light, Sadie sat indoors, bored and annoyed as the Fourth of July passed her by. 

She half expected there to be some kind of barbecue like she always had at home. Every year her mom and dad would take her out to a parking lot and watch fireworks on their shoulders. They would eat grilled hotdogs and watermelon and cake and Dad would always let her eat until she would almost make herself sick. 

As the hours of near silence droned on, Jun came down the creaky stairs, rubbing the bags under his eyes and heated up a can of beans for her before leaving again. Their house seemed to groan with age at the joints and she was afraid if she sat still for another minute that she'd grow cobwebs. Oscar was the only thing keeping her company, although he was a scaredy cat, quietly sulking under the table from the small blasts. Sadie gave her bowl of beans for him to pick clean. 

So it was surprising, come Saturday morning when she was briskly awoken by a chipper Uncle Mike to ask her if she wanted to go to the zoo. His spotty response was that they felt bad that she was left out of festivities, although he gave no explanation as to why. She had no intention to question her good fortune. 

It was a half hour drive before they made their way into Portland and paid admission for parking. As Jun paid for the tickets, Uncle Mike practically wrestled her to smear nearly the entire tube of sunscreen on her face. "Now hold still Wiggles! Don't want you gettin' sunburn again."

She protested but to no avail. From that point on she was going to be greasy. 

The sun was the hottest she'd felt since she arrived in Oregon and the place was crowded. Small children ran by with colorful balloons and imitated animal noises and showed off their techniques to their mothers. 

Their first stop was at the petting zoo, where Sadie wished the shrink ray had already been invented so she could take one of the baby goats in her pocket with her. The world as her witness, she was gonna make it happen. 

They saw lions and tigers prowling about and napping, their roars rumbling deep in her lungs. Some crocodiles were getting fed bits of meat on poles. When she saw the elephants she practically begged to get a chance to feed one. 

As Jun inched away from the approaching animal, Sadie held out a cone full of peanuts and watched in awe as the elephant delicately tugged it out of her hand. It made a loud snort, making Jun practically turn away on his heel with a little gasp and watch her pet it's trunk from afar. 

She couldn't help but throw her head back and cackle. Apparently horses weren't the only things that freaked him out. 

After that, they made their stops to feed the giraffes, which apparently were Uncle Mike's favorite animal, as he had mentioned it at least five or six times as they walked about the food carts looking for napkins to wipe their sticky drool off of Sadie's shirt. Uncle Mike chuckled as he handed her one napkin after another. "Did you know their tongues can be up to two feet long?" 

"Oh really?" Sadie nudged Mike's arm and rolled her eyes.

He poked her tummy, getting her to look up. "Hey look what I can do with my tongue," and with that he touched his tongue to his nose. She snorted with a disgusted laugh. 

They sat down for some buttered corn cobs and lemonade, but by the time Sadie and Jun were ready to go, Mike was reluctant. He put a lot of gusto into hoisting himself up, and as much as Sadie wanted to surge on ahead, Mike hobbled along at a strenuous pace. 

They saw the gorillas and then some of the more exotic monkeys and birds, and each time Uncle Mike had a chance, he would sit on an open bench, taking longer and longer to get up. By the time they made it to the steps of the aquarium, Mike simply pulled the polaroid strap off his neck and handed it to Jun. "I'm gonna stay down here and ease up. You two go on ahead." 

"Are you sure? We can wait a bit-" Jun stammered as Mike plopped himself on a concrete bench by the side of the staircase. 

"Naw it's okay. Just take good pictures and I'll be happy."

Sadie was halfway up the steps, feeling bad about leaving Uncle Mike behind. Jun gave his shoulder a light squeeze before making his way up the steps along with her. 

Sadie jogged on ahead, sort of liking the sound the carpet made on her shoes as Jun huffed and puffed from two flights. She twirled around with her arms out as she looked at the tube of sharks overhead. 

And for a moment, as her father looked up and mumbled the word "thresher," under his breath, she saw something gentle and starstruck in his eyes. She pointed at a few more fish and sharks to see if he knew more names. He knew every one. 

"I've caught one of those. The steelhead salmon." He pointed at a silver fish. 

Sadie pursed her lips. "I thought salmon lived in rivers. And I thought they were red." She made another twirl before flopping over on her butt. 

"Well they live in the ocean until they grow up. Then they go home in the river to spawn. I caught it on a trip a year or two back with Morales, the guy from work. Him and… um… his brother, what is the name? Raul. And his nephew. I think about your age… Jake I think." Jun took a couple of photos before shoving his hands into his pockets. 

"Oh I know Jake! We hang out, but he can be a big dumb jerk sometimes. Why are boys such big dumb jerks?" She stuck her tongue out. After she stood up they carried on down the tube. 

"Lord knows why." Jun chuckled. The blue casted light flickered about both of their forms. Sadie grasped one of his stiff bent fingers and tugged at him with excitement. 

They looked at the starfish crawling their way up the glass, and at the puffer fish floating around as they made their way down the end of the tube. In the next room there were labels for lake fish all over the place. She looked at the sturgeon fish for a moment before deciding she didn't like sturgeon fish. They were super ugly. 

Jun kinda scratched the back of his neck sheepishly as the silence went on. "When I was your age I had a hard time in class. I used to read Jacques Custeau books a lot when I got lost. They were on the bookshelf. I wanted to be a marine biologist." 

"But you're a tractor fixer now." she scrunched up her nose. 

They left out the brightly lit back end and sat down on the bleachers to watch the sea lions napping on the rocks. There were only a few people straggling as the show was over maybe an hour or two ago. 

Jun exhaled loudly and combed his hair in place. "You know… life works that way sometimes… but… it doesn't have to. I want you to know that...um," he scratched the back of his neck again, "what do you want to be when you grow up?" 

Sadie pulled her knees up and folded her arms. "Does it even matter? Every grownup I know has to push their dumb opinions all the time. They all just treat me like a dumb baby."

"Well those are just opinions. Sometimes you think opinions matter too much, but the truth is they only matter to you. So… As long as you know what you want. That's what's important… I think." 

After watching the sea lions a bit longer, Jun cleared his throat and sat back up. "Come on. Don't want to leave Mike alone too long. He might get into trouble." 

In the dimming blue evening light they made their way back down the stairs, Mike sat up with a groan and demanded to see the pictures. He flipped through them as they went through the reptile room. Behind that were the underside of the sea lion tanks, and the otter tanks where the three of them watched them roll about and groom each other. 

Eventually it was time to go. Honestly Sadie could have stood to watch the puffins a bit longer, but as soon as Jun mentioned getting something to eat, she got the hint they were done for the day. Even so, She got a crank penny with a tiger on it out of the deal.

On their way back into their quiet little town, they stopped at the local diner and ordered some dinner. They enjoyed their meals and talked excitedly about the animals they saw. Sadie fiddled with her new penny, already planning on putting it with her trinket stash at home along with her mom’s mismatched earring and the rock that looked like a rabbit. The light outside began to dim.

As they walked through the parking lot, Uncle Mike swung Sadie's arm back and forth, but Jun stopped abruptly in his tracks. He reached out his hand and held Mike back in his stride, and all good humor came to a staggering halt. "Hold on." 

That's when Sadie saw the truck. On the drivers side there were largely scribbled gouge marks over the surface of the metal in blocky letters to make one word. Sadie had seen some cars with little nicks and dings in them before, her mom explaining that’s what they got for parking crooked. But words were new. 

She had never seen the word before, but as she looked back up at Mike's lips turned down and eyes widened into a distressed expression that she didn't know he was capable of making, she felt a swell of anxiety bloom in her ribcage and her stomach felt like a sandbag dropping from a hot air balloon. 

It spelled: F. A. G. S. 

They stood there quietly for a moment, almost as though the both of them were made of stone. 

"Well, I guess makin' a 'Q' would be too hard for them." Despite the chuckle he gave off, Mike’s voice suggested that there was nothing to laugh about. 

Jun crouched a bit to look under the truck and made a lap around it, making darting glances around the lot. "Fuck the tire's slashed." He sat up and rubbed his forehead. 

Mike wringed his hands nervously. "Th-that's okay, that's okay. We've got a spare at home right? We can call a tow."

“Tow’s not gonna help, you know that. I’ll try to get a hold of my dad or Wang and see if they’ve got a minute.” 

Jun briskly ushered them back into the diner and explained the situation to the hostess, before asking to dial a number right behind the counter. Mike sat on the edge of the cushioned waiting booth and when Sadie took a seat next to him, he wrapped an arm around her and held her more firmly than she was accustomed to, and too rigidly for comfort. 

As she listened to her father's agitated voice on one end of the phone, she poked Mike's tummy, as he had done to her a dozen times over. This time he flinched, and grumbled a low "Not now Sadie." 

After a stifled sigh, she sat up a bit, her much not wanting to be pressed so close to a grump. "Hey… um Uncle Mike, you never finished that story about how you met Jun." 

With a little head tilt, Mike smiled gently. "Oh that… Hm. I don't remember, where was I?" 

"You… were a janitor I think?" she pulled out some watermelon gum and offered him some. 

Uncle Mike stroked his moustache and frowned in thought. "Oh yes that's right. As a matter of fact I think it was in July, Or maybe the beginning of August? Hm…well that doesn't matter. We're damned as it is, but I didn't know it until Junebug and I saw it for ourselves. We got fumes that trail to high heavens. That's why ol' NOCs pays us a visit. Give us a jab, wouldn't want us yammerin' on an forgettin' about our place, bein buddies with Beelzeb-" 

"Stop it Mike!" Jun snapped, covering the mouthpiece. His bushy brows folded over his narrowed his eyes, and his mouth twisted up until his moustache seemed to puff out from under his nose in an pinpointed glare. 

Sadie shrunk a bit, uncertain of what was happening. Was what Mike said somehow a bad word? She had never seen either of them stirred up before, and unlike Mike's cold disapproval, Ye jun's anger was red hot. 

"I was just-" Mike started up again, but he stopped as Jun's scowl grew more acute, finally giving up with a loud huff. He pulled the wrapper off his gum, and with just the hint of a cheek twitch he stayed quiet the rest of the time. 

After Wang finally showed up, he gave them both a ride, offering to help Jun change out the tire in the morning. 

Once they climbed up the ramp to the house, Jun assured Sadie that everything was going to be alright, it was just a bit of damage, and he went back to talking about the better parts of the day. 

It was enough for Sadie to relax. That was until it was time to go to bed, and as Jun ushered Sadie up the stairs, Mike remained on the couch to watch television by himself in the dark.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there's been typos I've noticed while re-reading it. I've read the story like a 100 times over and my eyes tend to glaze over. Plus I get super bad migranes. I'll go back and polish it off soon enough.

August 29, 1970

Maybe it was the breathless kisses stroked from a shaking sternum in the wee hours of the night. Maybe it was the reserved hum in Michael's nose before giving in and leaning into the palm Ye jun rested on his cheek. He knew what the word was. 

Although Ye jun didn't mind the gentle commands and the domineering gestures, it was the seasoned haughty attitude that remained the splinter in his thumb. If Ye jun was certain of anything, it was that Michael felt most in his element when there was some pretense of control. It kept Ye jun from using the word. 

Only after making it apparent that Ye jun wasn't so easy to obtain, playing small games of keep-away to remind Michael that Ye jun was not to be underestimated when it came to getting into the other's head. Ye jun could tell it irked him to no end from the little grumbles under his breath, and it took locked wrists and a deep kiss that ended up a flop to the floor for him to realize just how vexing it was for Michael to not get his way. 

It was the first time Ye jun felt his own legs climb up around a waist, as he and Michael stole a moment between two cots and tangled in scratchy blankets. He buried his face in Michael's shoulder, dazed from the surge of appetite that left him wanting more than the vague sensations he had grown accustomed to. 

It didn't last long. They broke as Tom and Floyd came in, hot and breathing heavily. Ye jun had finally put enough weight on himself to go back to the sleeping quarters, and that meant the end of adequate privacy. Michael thought on his toes and played it off like he had dropped a lighter, but the fact remained that Ye jun's face said everything else. It was barely a veneer enough to hide behind, naturally it didn't stop Floyd from ragging on him as they scampered out of the tent. 

Terror. Sorrow. Rage. Shame. By the time he realized the agonizing familiar jolt to his system, it was too late to find somewhere to calm down. Michael put a hand on his shoulder and said something but he could hear it over the roar of blood pumping in his veins. He hyperventilated until he dropped to the floor.

When he came to, he found himself propped up against a heavy bucket. Michael was still there waiting. 

"Have you ever… told anyone?" Michael tightened his lips in sympathy. 

Ye jun hid behind his hands and cried for a long while. Michael was still there, as he had been whenever Ye jun needed him most. He spoke sweet nothings that meant everything. 

Selfish, or yielding to the point of bending himself out of his natural shape? A coward, or gallant enough to pull a man on his back and trudge into the deep? Campy, or weathered by hardship Ye jun wasn't privy to? Spurious for the sake the illusion of distance, or authentic enough to be patient where Ye jun was clumsy or vulnerable? 

Ye jun was beginning to think that all of those contradictions may have been true about Michael. As Michael stroked his hair, his anxious thoughts about a blue discharge somehow got lost behind the thought of the two of them sitting on a fishing boat together. Casually watching the waves dip and rise with a cooler and cans in hand. Exchanging sweet nothings that meant everything once more. It was then that he knew he needed to say the word out loud. 

"Michael I…" 

Before the word passed through his lips, already Michael began to recoil. "Oh please God don't." 

"I love you." 

The silence lasted only a short moment, but to Ye jun it was the longest moment of his life. 

"No you don't." 

"Yes I do," he reached out to place a palm on Michael's cheek, as he had done before, but this time a hand held out to stop him. 

"No, I mean, we have fun but… I wasn't looking for anything serious. I'm sorry dude." Michael stood up and shuffled the gravel around under his boot. 

The corners of Ye jun's lips twisted down as tears began to well up. His body rattled angrily. Incomprehensibly.

"Come on, please don't cry, Michael tried to coddle him as he tried to stand on his own two feet, but Ye jun nudged him off with an elbow. 

Ye jun didn't need his feelings coddled like a small child, but his anger and frustration began to muddle his thoughts too much to explain himself. "Bullshit! I not stupid! I love you!" 

"No you don't." Michael's gaze hardened as he looked over the frame of his thick glasses. 

"Yes I do!" 

" _No,_ you don't," his glare grew to a pinprick, "you don't love me. You don't even _know_ me." 

"Bullshit," he snarled. 

"Yeah? Then what's my middle name?"

"Uh." Ye jun inhaled to retort, but paused. 

"What's my favorite color?" That time, Ye jun closed his mouth entirely. He was never good with being put on the spot, but the more he thought of what he knew of Michael, the more blanks he kept pulling up. 

Michael let out an annoyed sigh, taking his glasses off, casting his eyes to the gritty ground. "Ye jun. I live in a van. I've never paid any taxes because I don't have an address. I don't know how to."

Ye jun squinted, devoid of words, and reeling with confusion. He blinked tears away waiting for a point. 

"I've never had a steady job for more than a few years. Before I got on the bus I had… twelve dollars? I was parked behind a gas station and when I get back home… I don't know what I'm gonna do. I don't expect you to deal with all that. It's not realistic," Michael turned on his heels, rocking back and forth as if he was about to leave and laced his hands together behind his head, "fuck I can't believe you're making me do this. Look, I'm tired, I'm sweaty. I want to take a shower." And with that he started walking.

Ye jun bared his teeth, holding back a sob. It didn't make sense. _None_ of this made sense. He smacked his forehead and snapped his fingers a couple times, trying to think of something, anything to say before blurting out. "Is…Goyang-i… uh… Meow! Word for meow!" 

Michael looked over his shoulder and squinted. "What?" 

"Word for meow? Ears. Hair." He took a step closer, no longer caring about puffy eyes or a runny nose. 

"What like a cat?" 

"Yes, cat. His name Babo," he nodded. 

Michael winced a bit, then with the meekest tone Ye jun had ever heard from him, he murmured, "...You have a kitty?" 

"Yes kitty. A-and chickens. And I grow things for cook, and I work in the cars… farm cars I mean. And I'm married, but not anymore and my eomma is so mad still, and I can't tell eomma is because I couldn't take it anymore and… and… I like green." Ye jun patted his chest. 

Michael's frozen gaze dwelled over every inch of Ye jun's face, almost as though he didn't believe a word Ye jun said. As the silence cast out into uncharted waters, he grimaced and rubbed his temple absentmindedly. "I… I gotta go." 

Ye jun wiped his nose on his shirt, groaning to himself. He felt like a fool that the hands that held his under the rolling rainfall, knuckles grazed against the tarp could have been interpreted as anything else. That Michael's honey-sweet words were just that. Perhaps he was too eager to read between the lines, twist instantaneous grazes just to feel less alone. 

But then again, Michael was nothing if not a high classed bullshitter. That much Ye jun never had a doubt on. If Michael really believed to his core that they were no more than a passive tryst, then he was fooling himself.


	33. Chapter 33

August 30, 1970

Although he was getting around on his own without crutches, Ye jun's gait would never be quite the same. He was just lucky that the damage wasn't any worse, otherwise he may have not had a right leg at all. He favored his left while he stood out in the vehicle checking point. 

He had been standing at the gate for a few hours per order, along with Floyd, who, despite making blowjob gestures and slapping Ye jun's chest, was less threatening than Ye jun initially anticipated. He decided to play it off, deciding that getting too defensive would only make the hazing worse. 

It was the third day of intense heat, and Ye jun strained to see through the hot vapor warping the very end of the dirt entrance he stood by. His staff sg. informed him that the squads sent out were supposedly returning from their recon, and it was his job to do clearance check. It was fairly straightforward work, but standing for so long was beginning to really hurt like a son of a bitch. 

Floyd was the check before Ye jun at the gate, and he stood a ways away, propping himself on the butt of his rifle looking quite bored not being able to fuck with anyone. 

St. Delacruz finally came by some time around 17:00 to let him know he was allowed a short break, and while Floyd immediately bailed, Ye-jun simply sat down on a folding chair to eat his lunch. And with the conveniently placed lunch break, slipping by the gate post was the last face Ye jun wanted to see. 

"Hey," Michael shoved his hands in his pockets and swayed to and fro anxiously. 

Ye jun squinted and twisted his lips up into a contempted scowl. Curtly, and in a deflated tone he replied "Go away." 

"Come on now, don't be like that," he grumbled, pulling perhaps the most beautiful thing Ye jun had ever laid eyes on out of his left pocket, "beside, I brought a peace offering." 

"Pop!? How!?" Ye jun blinked in bewilderment. He hadn't seen a soft drink in over six months, yet there the glistening neck of a glass bottle lay clutched in Mike's long fingered grasp. The red label may as well have been gold. 

"Been saving it a couple weeks for the right occasion, you wouldn't _believe_. Took _twelve_ cigarettes to barter. If we were stationed closer to Phu Cat I could've gotten one out of a vending machine for a dime. I never wanna smell shoe polish again so enjoy buddy." 

Ye jun wished he could have recalled having stated that he wouldn't be bought so easily, but he was so concerned with some nostalgic reminder of home that all platforms of negotiations were whisked away by primal ravenous instinct. He pried the lid off with the edge of his pocket knife and downed half the lukewarm soda I one go. As he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, Michael scrubbed the back of his neck before leaning against the fence. 

"Look, I get that you're upset with me. I never meant to make you feel I was leading you on or anything. It ain't like that." Michael squinted through the bright yellow daylight. 

Ye jun decided he was only willing to listen long enough to finish his drink, so he merely grunted in response. 

Michael tapped the tips of his fingers together and thought for a moment. "It's just… I wasn't expecting nothin' to happen here, and you're a decent guy you know…Can't help I was raised by wolves. I know you're... inexperienced but-" 

"See here's the thing with you," he interrupted Michael, waggling his finger and shaking his head, "is just talk talk talk. All the time is talk. But you no listen. You think you know things, anybody ask if Ye jun know things? No."

Michael threw his arms up. "Okay, okay I get it! I'm a bit of a know-it-all. but I've gotta ask you, where did you think we were gonna go with this? I mean, we barely know each other." 

"More bullshit is all I hear. I ask _you_ , when's last time you not bullshit your way out of things?" he prodded Michael's hip. 

Michael bit his lip and looked away, before snapping back. "Look, I like you, I really do, but I'm not exactly the picturesque starter queer okay? And then you drop the fucking 'L' bomb but what do we have? We have w-what? What? The jungle? Three months of starving and fucking freezing to death man? Because that's what we've got going for us right now." 

Ye jun felt himself wilt, looking down at his feet and frowning. "At least is not bullshit," he grumbled and kicked at a clump of grass. 

"I'm sorry dude. I'm sorry I made you feel like shit. My bad. I'm not… good at this," he murmured. 

"What being honest?" Ye jun snorted back and took a sip. 

"Yeah," Michael's voice came out hoarse. He cleared his throat and took a deep inhale. "Just… folks over here, they keep saying 'oh this is the real world. This is the real world.' But it's not. We're… trapped in this… violent confusing bubble. Nobody else in the world is stopping on our account. It's fucked up." 

Michael tugged on the front of his shirt, catching the dog tags before anxiously twisting them around his fingers. "This hair isn't mine. These clothes aren't mine. I'm doing the song and dance but none of this is me dude. I want to believe that. I _have_ to believe that. Some kinda pretentious… preservation of authenticity… Or maybe that's also bullshit, I-I don't know anymore. When I get back home… I don't know what I'm gonna find. I can't shake the notion that I'm gonna get _stuck_ here somehow, maybe I won't come back at all. Maybe it's already gone. Do you know what I mean?" 

Ye jun's brows furrowed as he listened, he nodded a bit. It seemed a bit convoluted, recondite, but perhaps it was that nature because Michael had been sitting on it for a while. Regardless it didn't feel disingenuine for once. Ye jun couldn't help but notice the dark circles under Michael's eyes. 

Michael gave him a small sad smile. "To be honest there's a reason I can't hold a job. I… forget things. Sometimes it's like I can't even do basic shit, and I end up just… wandering around. I flake too much to do anything other than panhandling," Michael let out a dry chuckle, "... I'm kind of a mess." 

Ye jun offered him what was left of the soda, but Michael merely sloshed it around. "What you're askin' for. What you're looking for in me… I don't wanna cramp your style." 

Ye jun shrugged. "Okay." 

"Just… okay?" 

"Yeah," he plucked at his bottom lip thoughtfully, "I had a wife, Things were… fine. I don't know. It is like I was watching some kinda… fucked up movie all the time. I try to be straight, I'm not happy. I try to be gay, and go do gay shit. That guy he tell me: go home. Not for you. He say that to me and I think to myself, 'Oh Ye jun no get to be happy.' I not good at being straight, I not good at boys. And you, you're not like that. You understand. And gentle. Even when I'm… huge idiot." 

"Well if it's any consolation I don't think you're an idiot. But um, 'L' word aside, I guess the question is: do I make you _happy_ though?" Michael nudged his shoulder playfully and drank the last of the cola at the bottom. 

"...Fuckin' something." Ye jun groaned and pressed his temple to Michael's hip to hide his blushing. 

"Even though I'm fucking daffy?" Michel rubbed the end of his nose. 

"Yes." 

"Are you sure it's not because i give _amazing_ head? Not even a little?" 

"Mm… maybe."

Michael patted his shoulder, which lingered just long enough for it to matter. "It's Phineas by the way." 

Ye jun hummed a questioning note response. 

"My middle name. It's Phineas. And I like green too." He hooked his pinkie around Ye jun's and held it there. 

After a few more moments sitting shoulder to hip, Michael finally stammered out that he needed to get back to cleaning, unfurling his pinkie until it fell out of Ye jun's grasp. He looked at the bottle cap for a moment before stuffing it in his pants pocket and wrung his hands to hold onto the warmth a little bit longer. Returning to his post, Ye jun held the biggest grin known to man. Things were finally looking up. 

Mounted vehicles began making their way up the red dirt tracks, carrying Lt. Gilbert, Sgt. Kennedy and two thirds of the camp. Although battered, Ye jun knew that most of them had come back in one piece. As out of the loop as he was, he had a hunch on their operations. 

He cleared truck after truck, having a few minutes in between as Floyd stopped them a good dozen yards ahead. Red puffs of dust hazed over the trucks bringing up the tail surrounding Floyd as he began walking up the road. He looked straight forward as the second to the last truck combusted with enough force to send him flying out of sight and into the brush. 

Time came to a standstill as the undeniable rupturing sound of a claymore shredded the truck into a twisted flaming pile of metal. Ye jun could feel his legs moving beneath him, and for the first time since he was shot he felt no pain. 

GIs driving came to a halt and started piling out to help. Holland and Kuntz dragged Floyd out of the underbrush, calling for the medics as they tried to hold his dented head over himself to keep him from bleeding all the way out. But the medics always brought up the rear. 

Two or or three of the maybe twenty medics on that truck were still twitching. Ye jun snapped his eyes shut and froze until his own sgt. O'Neil started directing orders. 

The medics in the truck behind were doing their best to save the ones who were still alive, but one of them gurgled and went still almost moments after the explosion. Ye jun and his squad leader Maloof checked the rest of the vehicles for hidden explosives, but found none. 

Ye jun's mind was spinning as he ducked down over and over, trying his hardest to peer in the dark and ignore the blackened fringes of his eyes. 

Then, somewhere in the distance, somewhere on the edge of the camp, like the loud crackle of thunder another explosion went off, rattling everything under his boots up by a foot. As the high pitched whine drown out, Ye jun's labor of forcing himself to focus went out the door. 

Looking up, he saw a column of black smoke climb from the tree tops.


	34. Chapter 34

August 30, 1970 

As the ashen sky blotted out the sun, the air grew humid and putrid to the taste. Ye jun's eyes burned as he strained to follow Sgt. O'Neil's orders, bending around the outside of the camp. The squad brought two in the front, Maloof to the right of the fence, and Ye jun was in the back. 

Pacing between the sonic boom and the impact, Ye jun assumed it was some form of rocket launcher, portable rather than artillery. If he had to guess, there were few reloads to spare. 

Although a hole had been blown in the truck lot, none of the unseen enemy came pouring in. Ye jun had seen this tactic right before he nearly busted his skull open. The village that his platoon flipped had been awful quiet before being lured into the rice patties by sparse machine gun fire. 

Before he had a chance to think, they were bottlenecked from behind into that chain-link minefield. After he woke at the bottom of an irrigation ditch, heaped between bodies in almost foot deep murky water, he barely managed to slither away. 

The reality was that the camp had started off with three full platoons, supposing to pit stop back and forth between larger posts, but sitting atop an angry hornet's nest was repurposed to clearing out the area for easier passage of goods. Ye jun didn't know what 'clearing' would look like until he was right in the middle of it. 

The only moments where he wasn't thinking about it were the moments where Michael was pressed against him. 

O'Niel wanted them to slip in by the watch tower closest to the explosions and see what went wrong. The alarms rang a little too late for the cause.   
They came around the corner of the east watch tower listening as a few stray shots whistled past them from somewhere in the foliage, Maloof ordered an open fire, and Ye jun did so. Between three of them, Ye jun could hear bodies drop with a dull thud, yet the whisked strays continued. 

Ye jun looked up to see the barrels poke out of the window at least 20 feet overhead and fire off at intervals. More sounds of bodies dropped from behind the hazy shadows. 

"All right, they're tryna spread around front. Right face, fan out, get moving." O'Neil grunted. And into the brush they went. Covering blind spots, Ye jun brought up the rear silently, hoping that whatever operation carried out before they got home cut down on numbers enough to be considered scraps. But as the east tower kept up the sputters into the treeline, his hopes began to sink, slowly filling with wet cement and limp bodies. 

They kept up on the east end, and Ye jun changed to the far left flank. Never, outside of direct orders would he get in front. Kunzy talked shit about everything from his sexcapades to his proud viking bloodline, but as much as he made it apparent that he hated Ye jun for having the audacity to exist and force Kunzy to spend his time sandwiched between people like him and people like Maloof, he wasn't sure Kuntz had the nutsack to be anything more than an overly aggressive blowhard. 

On the other hand, with views narrowed as Sanchez or Holland, Ye jun wouldn't put it past them to be proud of their 'accidental' friendly fire. It would be one less gook to them. 

Ye jun was good at following orders. Always had been. Up until the clear out and separation in the soggy ditch, he kept sole focus on keeping his eyes down the line of his barrel. Short pulls to keep it from overheating. He just wanted to go home to his mother and father and sisters in one piece and never have to think about Quang Ngai again if he could help it. 

But this time was different. The gunfire bursting out his rifle cut though the smoky atmosphere, but to him it sounded like a mumble. He and his troop took out more and more Veit Kong, but they kept coming out of the woodwork in volumes. He had no room for the assumptions of enemy strength except in hindsight. 

He stepped over one, couldn't have been more than seventeen, no less than fourteen. Grasping at his boot to trip him and gnashing his teeth in agony. Or maybe it was a cry for help. All Ye jun knew was he didn't belong there. 

There was no way in hell the waves weren't going to overturn the thin sweep without it coming to a boil. He strained his eyes through the smoke, barely having the time to block fronds before they would whip past and slash at his cheeks. Gunfire started up from inside the camp and then it didn't cease. Squad leader Johnson brought his boys in, a message on something for O'Neil from up the chain. 

There were more explosives, M33's likely near the launch pad that sat in the treeline beyond the lot, then again in the truck lot itself. Not a single blast so far sounded Russian. After chiseling away at their supply lines for so long, it had nearly become a joke. 

The squad's sweep was called off and their orders were to guard the front gate. They weren't spread wide enough to stop a few trickles from leaking past. Ye jun brought up the back again and did his best to mow at whoever stepped into visual. Some grunt counted to focus, he never did like that concept, but he found himself unable to shake the numbers regardless. The last spurt of rounds before getting to the front made twelve confirmed. 

Once they were cleared inside the camp, Ye jun needed a word worse than clusterfuck. He never could find that word, so some part of him went quiet forever. 

Viet Cong men were beginning to pile up over the scuffed gritty earth. Privates were building walls for cover and getting their faces split open. Building material blended into building material. With each heartbeat that echoed in his temples the camp's fires rose higher and the yellow sky above turned a bleeding red. 

The village Ye jun had endured was secured, only for it to become a lost cause. The POW camp beyond the rice patties was stomped into nothing upon Sanchez, Chandler, Holland and Webber's retrieval. Marks were won over only for the Company to abandon it and never look back. What was it even for? 

Before the numbers near the entrance began to taper off, most of the camp had been charred to a crisp. The ones left standing were mostly Company, but there wasn't much left to celebrate over. Hovering his hands over the burning hot stock of his M16, the hot coarse air cemented his dried throat until it was painful to swallow. Ye jun never thought he would miss the jungle rains and flash floods so much. 

Ye jun's legs began to shudder beneath his immeasurable weight, but there was much work to do. O'Neil ordered for them to start putting out fires as best they could, pouring buckets of dirt and gravel over smoking debris and salvaging anything that hadn't erupted or leaked chemical gasses. He tripped over bodies and helmets that had rolled away from their owners as the clawing and gnashing fear rose up from within. The only thing keeping him from looking down was the thought of looking down down and seeing Michael lifeless at his feet. 

He hadn't seen Michael since his lunch break and it was nearing sometime possibly around nine in the evening. Still light out, drop much to risk looking down. He prayed to God under his breath as husky words were agonizing to say out loud. Finally, possibly the only time he ever felt a gentle caress of a Lord who listened to his pitiful cries, over his shoulder he caught Michael's voice in response to Carter barking orders. 

People from all directions were calling for a medic that they probably wouldn't get in time. Carter was sounding more and more pissed off. Ye jun could only catch a couple of glimpses despite his busy work. 

As the red daylight finally faded into a black dusk, O'Neil allowed the squad a break to get water. Panting in between slurping handfuls of water from the pump, Ye Jun caught the reflection cupped in his hands of the sky. It was strange, like seeing his hands for the very first time. Simple motions and gestures blended so faintly. The scratching stroke of a charcoal pencil on pulp paper. The stirring of a spoonful of honey into a morning tea. The cupping of a warmed cheek after a breathless orgasm. The pull of a cold trigger. 

He finally had a moment to look around the lot. In terms of the dead, he could see more VC than infantry. In terms of medics, there were few enough to to count on one hand, and they were pulled in every direction. 

The camp was done for, that much he knew. They had little left to gain, and their loss was barely a smudge swiped from the period at the end of a sentence. That was just the providence in a nutshell. His only hope was that it somehow all added up to something he'd never see until the tallies were up.

It was a very long evening. They worked until morning, or it would have been morning if they could see beyond the smoke. Between the explosives and gunfire, the high pitch whistle in his ears were barely cottony enough to drown out the pained moans of privates lined up in cots and blankets laid out in rows. He didn't know how bad most of them were off. There was smalltalk between the troops about getting shut down, or relocation. At that point Ye jun wouldn't have been surprised if it were true. 

He meant to check on Michael, he really did. But as he took it upon himself to approach, Michael wasn't with the injured people. He didn't see Michael again until later that day, where he was standing alone by the Lt.s tent with his back turned and stiff as a board. Before Ye jun had a chance to say anything, Sgt. Kenndy came out of the tent and rested a hand on Michael's shoulder. 

"I… I fucked it up." 

Kennedy patted him a few times. "Nobody's gonna blame you. It's over. It's over." 

Michael said nothing after, simply putting his head in his hands until Kennedy cleared his throat and left. Ye jun meant to say something, anything. But try as he might, silence was the only answer.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW Unreality  
> TW Gore   
> and to be safe   
> TW Noncon

September 1, 1970 

Ye jun wasn't quite sure where they were going yet. Nobody had any answers, save for Lt. Roy and Lt. Gilbert, who momentarily weren't concerned with keeping privates in the loop. Delacruiz was on the ham and ordering pickups for the most part of the day, and was distractingly loud at that. 

Chandler took a bullet to the face and dropped dead. Staff Sgt. Willson was dead and so was half of his squad. DiAngelo, who always made sure to slip Ye jun a lemon pound cake with his meals while recovering was also dead. They lost nine medics in total. There were even more injured. 

Floyd surprisingly survived the night after they were certain that he was out of the crucial concussion period, but he was still in desperate need of medical attention. He spent the night vomiting, his skull had a dent in the back the size of a baseball and his cheekbone was shattered and swollen. Guess he wasn't so pretty anymore. 

Clark on the other hand didn't make it out. Ye jun wouldn't go so far as to say that they were friends, but his death struck squad six in an eerie way. He was their whipping boy, dumb as the day was long, and he brought constant etertainment to their lunch group. He was twenty two and had baby fat to spare. When Ye jun asked what happened during a brief lunch, some of the boys simply grimaced. Lumps was the only one willing to talk about it. 

"Go ask Rivett." Johnson ground at his teeth, sounding almost… accusatory. 

"I… I don't understand." Ye jun stammered. The other day he flaked out on his friend, but the pit in his gut began to ever so slowly eat away at him. 

"Carter's talking up the chain to figure out what happened. It ain't gonna be pretty I'll tell you that." 

"Why what happened?" Ye jun looked around at the others, hoping it wasn't somehow confidential, Tomtom chewed the inside of his cheek and half heartedly shrugged. There were grumbles of agreement and mutters of doubt, but no one outright objected. 

"Look, all I know is something went screwy with Clark and now he's dead. They're trying to figure out if it was foul play or not. I don't know anything else, but I wouldn't put it past him. The guy is off," Johnson crossed his arms, "besides I'm pretty sure you got something better to do with your time. Don't worry about it." 

Ye jun had to bite back his anger, fumbling in on himself to come up with a retort, but the seeds of doubt sprouted in the back of his skull. He was almost afraid of asking anything else. Something was wrong. 

He spent the most part of the day taking shifts between distributing water and rations, and helping with truck maintenance. He was far from experienced with the particular models, but he had worked with more complex parts before. Even as the familiar cogs from a life that seemed so distant from his present turned about in his mind, he couldn't give it all his focus. It was as hazy as the ragged air that hung about the camp long past its welcome. 

The next time Ye jun saw Michael, he didn't get a chance to speak. Michael briskly patted his shoulder and spoke in a low tone near Ye jun's ear. "Meet me around back tonight at eight." 

Before Ye jun could respond, Michael passed him by, giving him no sense of hope that anything was remotely fine. 

The nights were different after the breach, no tents laid overhead and the camp felt bare and exposed. The round the clock guard was sharp as a razor's edge at the lightest gust of wind. The air still smelled of chemicals and gunpowder. If Ye jun had to guess what 'around back' meant, he assumed Mike was talking about the armored vehicles left over. Ye jun was nervous that what little faith he had in his friend was going to be gone. That Michael would prove to be just as much a stranger as the first day they met. He wasn't sure he could handle being alone again. 

Predictably, he saw Michael standing by the trucks, tapping his fingers against his arms anxiously. He looked like he hadn't shaved in a few days, and his eyes were so dark and baggy it was a wonder how he was keeping them open. He had a deep bruise on the tip of his chin and his fingernails had been chewed down to the skin. Ye jun wouldn't have been able to guess that Michael was a nail biter at all until then. 

"Hey…" Ye jun mumbled and eyed him with caution. 

"Hey." Michael chewed on his dry lips and looked away for a moment before giving him a tired smile. He patted the side of the vehicle next to him gently. 

"Are you… all right?" Ye jun leaned into the cold metal. 

"Oh? Who me? Yeah I'm okay. Just a little banged up." 

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Ye jun gestured to him limply at his appearance. Nobody in the camp looked good, but comparative to Michael they looked great. 

"I mean… what's there to talk about?" Michael smiled again. Something didn't quite add up. "I just wanted to see you again is all." He brushed Ye jun's thick hair in place and kissed his ear. But instead of hitching his breath, that time his flesh just crawled. 

"I heard something happened with Clark-" he blurted and squeezed his eyes shut, "-will you cut with the bullshit and talk to me?" 

A small shiver ran up Michael's body, he drew back and glared, obviously upset he wasn't getting the expected response. Ye jun glared right back. After a moment that felt very much like a stand-off, Michael closed his eyes, sort of scrunched his face up and exhaled. "I just… really need you right now. Please."

Ye jun swallowed hard and nodded his head. "Yeah. Yeah okay." 

Michael leaned in for a kiss, fondling Ye jun's crotch in his grasp. Ye jun tamped down his anxieties and exhaustion. If he was being honest with himself, he needed the release too. Michael got down on his knees and pulled Ye jun's belt off. He started sucking Ye jun off before he was fully erect, as small needy moans leaked from his throat. Ye jun was unaccustomed to the sound. It wasn't like him. 

Just as it started getting good, Michael stopped and began unbuckling himself frantically. "I don't care anymore, I need it. I want you to fuck me." 

Ye jun shook his head and cleared his throat. 

"Why what's wrong?" He panted. 

Ye jun shook his head again, growing quite sheepish. "N-no, is just that you said you wouldn't do it without lube-" 

"You wanna fucking do this or not?" Michael cut him off impatiently as he let his pants drop to his knees. He bent over the hood of the truck and hooked a thumb in the elastic band of his underwear and tugged them down, waiting for Ye jun to make up his mind. 

Ye jun put a hand on Michael's waist and trailed it up under his tank top, feeling the warm skin on his back. He wanted to push him down further but second guessed himself and brought his hand back down before gently squeezing Michael's rump. A shudder crawled up his abdomen as he pushed his throbbing cock up against his ass, placing both his hands on either side of Michael's waist. 

"Just put it in already," he snapped, dropping to his elbows as though he had read Ye jun's thoughts. 

Ye jun couldn't stop shuddering as he spat in his hand and rubbed his cock a little longer before sinking it in at a nervous pace. He wanted it to feel good, but his confidence drained with each strained grunt and hissing breath. Michael let out a low groan and put his forehead to the hood with a light tap, and when he finally lifted it up to look over his shoulder he thrust his hips back to take more of it in. 

Ye jun let out a startled yelp, growing blank in the mind with hot anxious excitement before starting up a pace. He was used to Michael's authoritative stance on sex, but the white static pulasating in the back of his eyes and the high altitude pressure in his lungs was something else. He couldn't focus on how anything felt. 

"Harder." Michael put his head back down and laid flat on the hood as Ye jun did what he was told, fucking hot and heavy as his breath grew ragged and harsh. Already he was biting on his lip to keep from bucking up inside, his pounding pace came to a sputter as sweat formed beads on his forehead. He rubbed his forehead onto Michael's shirt and breathed in his smell to find something comforting. Instead it felt like a rigid wall. 

"Don't you dare cum yet." Michael warned with venom in his voice, and that's all it took for Ye jun to lose his shit and jizz in a hot powerful spurt. He let out a deep abashed moan and hid his face in the crook of Michael's neck as he tried to catch his breath. 

"Off. Off," Michael squirmed his way out from under him and merely squatted for a moment, straining himself to dribble out a bit before putting his pants back on and smoothing his hair back in place. 

"I-I'm sorry Michael. Is an accident." Ye jun staggered on his wobbly knees, unable to catch his breath from the jolting sensation in his chest and limbs, and unable to explain why there and why then. 

"It's fine, it's fine. Just forget it," he replied with an exasperated sigh and began to walk away. 

Ye jun's face burned. He felt like crying and vomiting and passing out and punching himself in the face all at the same time. It wasn't fucking fair that Michael got to call the shots and then just leave whenever. To leave him feeling that way. "Wait where you fucking going?"

"To wipe me ass! What do you want from me Ye jun?" He turned on his heels and shrugged dismissively. He may as well have spat on Ye jun's face. 

"Fine! Whatever!" Ye jun threw his hands up. He kicked the hubcap so hard he had to check to see if his toe was broken. It wasn't, but it hurt almost as bad as his chest did. 

Later that night he decided he had had enough of Michael's offish loner routine. If he was just gonna be smoke and mirrors, then fuck him. Ye jun might not have been the brightest man to ever live, but he knew where to draw a line. 

By lights out, only some of the privates were lucky enough to have a cot left over, and most of them were being used up to the wounded. Instead they just slept on left over blankets lined up on the floor. He tucked into his sleeping bag, folding his hands into his armpits and planning out exactly how scorching his insults were going to be when he confronted Michael again. He fell asleep swilling in his petty cathartic fantasies. 

It felt as though he had only blinked before he shot up from loud shouting. Through his tired confused haze, he looked to his right as Lawrence slapped at him wherever his heavy arm would reach, grumbling angrily. He rubbed his eyes and scratched at his scalp until he realized who was causing the commotion. 

At the far end of the second row, about twenty feet or so from him, Michael was sitting up in his covers and shouting at the top of his lungs. Ye jun couldn't understand what he said. Soldiers were pulling off their boots and chucking them at Michael, angrily demanding he shut the fuck up.

"Ahn can you please put a lid on your boy toy?" Floyd grogglily called over from his cot before rolling back over and tucking himself in. 

Ye jun stood up and went over to Michael, who had curled into a tiny ball, tucking his face into his knees. He sat down next to him, making shushing sounds to try to calm him down. The other privates were _not_ above beating the shit out of someone if the situation demanded it.

"Why is Birdie going psycho?" Tom mumbled and rubbed his eyes.

"Please shut up! Please shut up! Just shut up! Please God stop!" Michael moaned, shaking all over and weeping, hardly acknowledging Ye jun was there at all. Ye jun sat on his knees and tried to jostle his shoulder. 

Earwig got out of bed and stood over the both of them. "Hey Dodo, what's going on here?" 

"It couldn't get out! I couldn't stop it and now we're fucked man! I didn't do anything wrong! I didn't mean it Ye jun! You gotta believe me! Oh God! Oh fuck! I'm just fucking it up for everyone! Just take me out back and shoot me man!" Michael gripped Ye jun's arm tightly and placed his forehead on his collar bone.

"Shut the fuck up dude!" Sanches yelled. 

Johnson looked at Ye jun with a severe expression. "Not his fault huh? You should have seen what he did to Clark. That son of a bitch ripped his guts out! Someone _should_ put you down, you crazy fuck," he spat. 

Michael rubbed his wet cheek on Ye jun's arm. "There were snakes. I tried to get them out, there were just so many snakes, there were so many snakes," he whispered harshly. Ye jun felt his blood grow cold. He was frozen in place as he watched Michael twitch and repeat himself under his breath. 

"Snakes huh," Earwig squatted down alongside the two, "what did they look like?" 

"Black. They were green. Like a pie. They were coming out of him… It was an accident. I shouldn't be here man. Lt. said he was gonna fucking kill me tomorrow. I-I deserve it. I lost."

"All right, lower your voice. Lost what?" Earwig rested his chin on the back of his arm. Ye jun tried to wiggle out but ultimately gave up after grappling with Michael's steel grip. Whatever hint of something that Ye jun once saw in his eyes, the thing that reminded him of Webber, the something that agitated somewhere in the recesses of Michael's mind was out for the world to see. And Ye jun wasn't sure what to make of it. 

"It was a test. See if I'm human. Ya know? But I can't be. Because my eyes are bad. Now Lt...and Carter... they know that… And-and I tried so hard. I really did, but the test was too hard. They put me here because I deserve it. This Hell man! This is Hell right here. You saw the sky!"

Bit by bit, the angry murmurs halted, many of them choosing the value of sleep over their anger. Save for Johnson, who's glare could have melted tire rubber. Ye jun couldn't rightfully blame him. Clark was in his squad after all. 

Earwig nodded slowly and thoughtfully, as if he understood anything Michael was saying. "I did see the sky." 

"It's red. It's Hell man! You could smell it in the clouds man. It's my fault and now we can't fuckin leave. You gotta believe me dude. They're fucking with something they're not supposed to and I fucked it all up." Fat tears slid down Michael's face until he rubbed it on the front of his tank top. He continued to pull it incessantly, as though it was uncomfortable. 

"They?" 

"Think about it! What the fuck else are we doing out here? Killin'? We're tapping into it and the pit's been open. It ain't anywhere else! This is only the start man! We can't let it escape outside of here so now we're all stuck for good! That's why they were testin' me. They knew I was a piece of shit man and now they're gonna put me down man."

Earwig bobbed his head. "Okay, fair enough, but I got a question for ya. Do you think I deserve it?" 

"Wh-what?" Michael stammered. Earwig paused for a moment before speaking, smiling widely enough that it didn't hit a mark right. 

"Wanna know why they call me Earwig? When I was twelve I found an earwig in my bed sheets. My mom looked all over for it but she never found the damn thing. I couldn't sleep at night because I was scared it was gonna lay eggs in my ears. The fucker came back though. I saw them in my food, in my shoes and clothes. In people's eyes and teeth… and it never stopped. So what about me? Do you think I deserve to be stuck here?"

Ye jun chewed on his lip and gently pet his head. Michael didn't reply.

"What about Lumps? He's a Black Panther back home. But fuck him, he's basically a commie terrorist right? Of course he deserves it." 

"Th-that's not what I'm saying," he grimaced. 

"What about Tomtom? He's only nineteen. He's got a fiance who he never shuts the fuck up about. Does he belong here?" 

"No… But that's a different thing." Michael mumbled. 

"What about your friend there? What about him?" he gestured to Ye jun. Finally Michael was stumped for a moment. 

"...No." 

"So it's safe to say it's not up to you. Why we're here? Whatever… government mining of the underworld thing you got going on? Eh? And if anyone tells you otherwise then fuck 'em. We all ended up here didn't we?" 

Michael rubbed his swollen eyes. "Maybe… I-I don't know. Maybe. I'm scared… please don't let me sleep. I don't wanna go to sleep."

"All right. I'll stay up for a bit." Earwig crossed his legs and put his hands in his lap. 

"...I'll stay up too." Ye jun nodded his head and wrapped his arms around Michael for a hug. Michael shuddered out a little sigh of relief. On his lips he prayed to God to forgive Michael for the blasphemous things he spouted, and for the safety of his friends, and that He watched over Clark. More importantly he prayed that he wouldn't ever have to see Michael in that state again. 

Ye jun couldn't stop himself from picturing the thought of Michael's fingers reaching into an open wound… clawing out whatever imaginary thing he was seeing. Not him. Not his Michael. 

They stayed up for the most part of the night, Michael finally fell asleep with his head in Ye jun's lap. As upset as he was still, he would be there for his friend, because neither of them truly left the jungle behind. That much was real, and Ye jun wondered if that feeling would ever truly fade.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW Self Harm   
> TW Suicide Mention   
> TW Negative Self Talk

It was early in the morning, earlier than Michael was used to that Ye jun stomped down the stairs, fully clothed and on a mission. He bent over to give Mike a brief kiss on the forehead, only for Mike to duck out of the way and shoot him a daggered glare. Ye jun simply snorted and stormed off outside. Michael didn't go to bed with him the previous night, in fact he didn't sleep at all. 

He finally turned the tv off and stretched his sore back, hopping into his chair and rolling into the kitchen to figure out what to make for breakfast. He nearly dropped the carton of orange juice as Ye jun started up his power sander. He was probably buffing out the side of the truck, but knowing that didn't stop Michael's heart from pounding like a drum set. 

He started making some oatmeal, putting an oven mitt on his lap in case anything from the testing spoon dripped off. Sadie came downstairs with messy hair and yawned. "What's with the racket?"

Michael didn't answer. As he took a couple of irritated deep breaths, the grating of metal melted into an obnoxious hum. He put the orange juice on the table and stared at a knot in the wood grain. He didn't remember it being there. Was it always there? He placed a glass over the knot so it would stop looking at him. 

"-We have any more grape juice?" Sadie poked at him, giving him a chance to brush the thought off. 

"Oh, yeah. I got a new carton a couple of days ago." He smiled as warmly as he could muster. 

He served them some oatmeal, and a part of him didn't much feel like hustling to tell Ye jun that their breakfast was ready. He didn't need to though as Ye jun trudged in, wiping his brow on a ratty work towel. 

The three of them ate almost silently, Sadie rubbed her eyes with her palms tiredly, pouring in more sugar from the shaker with each dissatisfied bite. Michael looked down at Oscar, who had woken up from under the table and plopped his head on his lap.   
Once she finished off her bowl, Michael cleared his throat. "All right now go get dressed dear." 

She waved her hand a bit and sluggishly pulled herself out of her chair. When Michael was sure that she was out of earshot he turned his attention to Ye jun. "We need to talk." 

Ye jun pinched the bridge of his nose. He folded his arms up defensively and slumped into his chair. "All right." 

"Ye jun, about last night with the-" Michael started up. 

"It's fine, It's coming out of the paint just fine. Pain in the ass, but nothing to worry about," Ye jun cut him off, scrubbing the back of his neck. He stood up to put the dishes in the sink and Michael only caught only a glimpse of his hip from under his untucked shirt, where deep red bruises had welted. 

"That's not what I was going to say," Michael huffed in irritation. 

Ye jun sat back down, chewing on the inside of his mouth, "Okay."

"When did you start that back up?" Michael scrunched Oscar's soft ear from under the table rather than look Ye jun in the eye. 

"Start what?" 

"You've been pinching yourself again," Michael replied, checking his tone despite the flutter in his chest. 

Ye jun had showcased the habit of hurting himself before. Usually pinching the inside of his thighs or under his arms whenever he thought no one was looking. The worst Michael had ever seen it was some time between the beginning journey of sobriety and finally seeing a therapist, where he would leave deep purple belt rings around his waistline by twisting the leather in his hands. According to his father's oral accounts, Ye jun had been like that since he was small. 

Michael knew it was a nervous habit, but it didn't upset him any less to know that. It usually meant he was hurting more than he let on. 

Ye jun cast his gaze to the floor. "Red." 

"No, not about this. Just tell me what's wrong." He shook his head. 

" _Red,_ " he insisted in an accusatory tone that time. Finally Michael couldn't stop himself from biting back. 

"You can't keep throwing in the towel whenever there's a problem jackass! This is so unfair! You are so stubborn sometimes you drive me up the wall! I can't even have a decent conversation without you shutting me down, I'm sick of it! I won't keep coddling you all the time if you're just going to be a big baby about it!" 

"You sound like my goddamn mother." Ye jun grumbled under his breath.

Michael's eyes widened as only air leaked from his throat. When he finally managed to swallow, it caught on a big lump. His whole body went tense. 

"... I didn't mean-" 

"Yes you did," Micheal replied quietly. 

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. 

Michael took a deep breath and pulled his glasses off before angrily tossing them on the table. "I know. I know I can be a nag. I know. Just…I feel… _concerned_ … when you...hurt yourself and won't talk about it… I want you to…" 

"I'm sorry. I meant to tell you. I'm just stressed. I'm sorry Mike." 

"Because you know it worries me." 

"I know…" Ye jun crossed his arms again. 

"So can you talk to me then?" 

"I feel… Ugh this is stupid. If I wanna say red then I should be allowed to say red! I don't get why it's okay for you but not for me to say red!" he tapped his palm on the table. 

"Because I'm not suicidal right now Ye jun. I'm sorry but you can't just _hide_ yourself away when you feel bad. We have to deal with it. I don't like it either and I know you're avoiding talking about it. It's not okay." 

"I'm not suicidal right now. You always do this! You make it so much like there is a problem and you keep pick, pick picking at it. Is annoying." 

"Because it _is_ a problem! Do you know how hard it is to keep an eleven year old occupied in a classroom for four and a half hours? It's exhausting! I asked you to bring her to work and you threw a red up in my face. I tried to be nice about it, I really did, but I would have liked to know why. We're supposed to be a team on this. Why do you not want to bring Sadie along?" 

"Mike," he groaned dismissively. 

"No. I want a reason. Give me a reason," he folded his arms.

"..." Ye jun mumbled quietly enough that Michael couldn't hear him. 

"What?" 

"It's Haines okay? I don't want to have to deal with that around her." Ye jun shifted in his seat uncomfortably. 

"Well what the fuck does Haines know anyways? He's just a big asshole. Look I understand that you-" 

"No. You don't understand Mike. You just don't." He said it with that familiar tone. The one that reminded Michael that he was being small minded. Self imposed. Unhelpful. 

Michael snapped his mouth shut. He furrowed his brows, upset that this was the one thing he'd never be able to connect over. Just hearing the stories Ye jun would tell about that steaming pile of turkey gizzards was enough to set Michael into a fit of righteous fury that he had no outlet for. He wanted nothing more than for Ye jun to not have to work at that fucking shop anymore. 

It was always tough to watch Ye jun wrestle with race, and feeling unable to back him up in any way that would be productive. Maybe that's why Ye jun remarked that he didn't feel supported despite Michael's efforts. It made him wonder how many of his gestures were empty and he'd never know. 

"I'm sorry… I didn't think about Haines," he bit back his own guilt, "It's just… she wants to get to know you, but you're just… being… a big… big ol' lump about it! You act like you don't even want her around sometimes!"

Ye jun frowned. "That's not true Mike! Of course I want her around!" 

"Well you sure as hell don't act like it. Maybe it's about Haines, a little bit. I believe that. But this has been going on for a while now. I know you better than that. Why don't you want her around?" 

"I do want her around- I've waited so long-- you're being an asshole!" Ye jun's face went red. 

"Yeah well you're not being honest with yourself! You're walling up. You're smoking again, I can smell it on your jackets when you come home. You're not talking to me. You yelled at me yesterday and you're angry at everything lately! Why are you so damn angry?"

"I… I don't know, okay? I just am!" He threw his hands up. 

"Are you mad at me?" Michael frowned. 

"No!" Ye jun shook his head. 

"Then what is it? If you know you're not mad at me then you know there's something making you mad! Why are you mad?" 

Finally something broke. "I don't want her to end up a fucking loser like me!"

Ye jun's face twisted up as though he was desperately trying to put the words back in his mouth. Michael grimaced as Ye jun pressed his palms into his eyes and sniffled, hunched over and shaking with frustration. 

"... I don't think you're a loser, no one's calling you that." Michael replied quietly, placing a hand over Ye jun's back. 

"I am! Everybody knows it! I don't want her looking and everybody saying how Ye jun's a stupid piece of shit! I don't want them to look at her like that! Haines.. everybody. What am I supposed to do? You tell me Michael. You tell me. Tell her I'm just a shit drunk? And then her hal-abeoji is a shit drunk so it's whole family? My eomma tell her how fat and stupid she is all day? I can't…" His words degraded until he was left with wobbly Korean. Words like idiot, embarrassment, and father stuck out the most. Michael tried his best to keep up with it but the translation was lost behind frustrated sobs. 

"Hey, hey, woah now. I don't think you're any of those things. Let's take a moment and remember your brain okay. Remember? You have clinical depression," Michael punctuated, getting a listening nod from Ye jun, "and your brain tells you all this negative shit and none of it is true. I know it feels real, but we both know that you don't always feel like this. I'm sorry you feel like this right now."

"I feel like a loser," Ye Jun moaned and licked the tears dripping down his lips, "I no want to talk about it. I know what you're gonna say. And then the truck… I don't want her to look at me… like…" 

"We're fags?" Michael's voice came out weak. 

"I know what you're going to say… I don't wanna hear it… it hurts so much." 

Michael rubbed his back and went quiet for a few moments. He could feel his insides fracturing like a broken window pane, cutting all the way down from his throat to his stomach. 

"... Junebug. I know you're trying your hardest… and believe me, I wanted this to work too. I wanna tell you that it was just a couple of dumb kids with too much time on their hands but you and I both know that this town ain't always the kindest. I don't wanna do this either but..." 

Ye jun closed his eyes as more tears welled up. "We gotta pull the plug." 

"I'm sorry baby," Michael's voice cracked under the pressure. 

"She can't stay here… I'll call her mom and let her know." He leaned forward for a hug, eyes glassy and distant. Michael gave him a tight squeeze. 

There was a gentle thump near the wall. Michael tensed up and looked over at the kitchen entrance, where Sadie stood, her hands balled up into quivering fists. 

"You guys are getting rid of me too!?"


End file.
